Mass Effect: Alien Nation
by TimoteusI
Summary: A Galactic civilisation caught amidst a sudden and unknown disease outbreak desperately seeks answers in the uncharted quadrant of the galaxy, unaware what, or whom they will stumble upon and just how much their lives will change. Please R&R
1. Chapter 1

Hi there internet people! So uh id like to start off with saying I've had a first go at writing a crossover story on before (Its still on my profile, but I've lost a bit of steam for it as of late though I may revisit it again in future) so this is technically my second go at writing something hopefully pleasing to the eye. It is an Alternate Universe Mass Effect story in which humanity has not spread beyond our solar system yet, and well discovery of humanity is a bit different to canon. As far as I know no one has explored this concept in a Mass Effect FanFic (hopefully a good sign) so please tell me what you think! Feedback, ideas and suggestions are most welcome as I am still thoroughly green in the fields of writing. (I promise future chapter will be longer) Without much further ado I present to you, 'Alien Nation'…

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Chapter 1

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 _~" {Citadel NewsNet logo spins into the screen, fades in to a single Asari sitting at a news desk}_

 _'_ _Welcome to Citadel NewsNet. I'm Alenya W'Sani. Confusion is still gripping the Citadel member species as a new Disease has been found spread among multiple colonies. Early reports, and wary onlookers are suggesting this may be a new strain of the '_ Rhaenosus Vocallus _', or more commonly known as_ Vocal-Neural Blabbermouth Disease, _a disease thought to have been wiped out 200 years ago. Though Scientists have not yet found positive links between this outbreak and 'V-N B' Disease, its sporadic, and some might say random spread across citadel space is similar to past V-N B outbreaks. Many are still asking;_ could this be a new disease, and what should we do? _To answer this question we spoke to a local doctor on the Citadel earlier.'_

 _{Switches to pre recorded interview}_

 ** _*_** _Deafening chatter of Media*_

 _'_ _Doctor Solus! What can you tell us here at Citadel NewsNet on the recent outbreak across Citadel space?'_

 _The Doctor in question, a Middle aged Salarian with a damaged horn, turned to the interviewer, and then the camera and back once again, seemingly unsure where to look._

 _'_ _Can tell you many things about outbreak. But too little time to cover everything! Can simplify findings so far?'_

 _Receiving a nod from the interviewer he continued 'Can confirm that from initial reports from sister hospitals that the Disease is not a strain of_ Rhaenosus Vocallus _. No signs of similar patterns of spreading from host to host, almost random. Not easy to find its point of origin.'_

 _'_ _Could this be-'_

 _'_ _A biological weapon? No, wait yes to no. Too random to be a Biological weapon. Also too far spread out. Still unsure how it is spreading, haven't trialed new quarantine theories. No cases have been seen among the Quarian species. Possibly due to Envirosuits? No. Unsure! Too many variables. Will have to run more tests.'_

 _'_ _Thank you Doctor Solus. This has been Weshra B'Loni from Zakera Ward, Citadel.'_

 _{Switches back to main reporter at the desk}_

 _'_ _Thank you Weshra. That's all the up to date news we have on the recent outbreak. Remember, keep hydrated, sanitise your workspace and remember, if you are worried about your health or that of a loved one please do not hesitate to call local healthcare professionals prior to going to your local hospital to allow for basic quarantine measures to be put in place.'_

 _{A pause, a change of camera angles and a shuffle of noise later the news switches to a commercial break}"~_

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-Inside the main Zakera Ward Hospital-

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"Well, compared to past events of you talking to the Media Girls at NewsNet, you spoke quite well, and slowly by your standards." A Turian Nurse standing by the window said as the Salarian Doctor from the news entered the building. Looking out she could easily see the crowd of media monsters (Yahgs of the media world she liked to refer to them as) massing near the possible entrances and exits to the hospital, ready to pounce onto anything or anyone that might make for a tasty scoop of gossip among celebrity news, or for any 'news updates' on the current, and in truth very troubling, outbreak.

"Zaera! Good to see your face after media mob outside. Couldn't wait to be finished with news reporter. In numbers their behaviour seems reminiscent of batch laid in too shallow spawn pool; too energetic, too enthusiastic, no respect for need of quietness on certain topics." Dr Mordin Solus said as he looked towards the Turian Nurse standing at the window. She was a long term colleague and good friend of his. In any other situation or line of work they might have become more than just colleagues and friends but they were both married to their work so to speak and their ability to share the same thought processes made them a perfect team in a lab.

"So in short, they behave just like you?" Zaera joked, the humorous tone in her voice bringing a small smile to Mordins face at the jab towards his way of talking fast, thinking fast and for having the worst timing ever to bringing up some topics of conversation.

"Me too energetic? Too enthusiastic? Like to think of it as specialised well trained interests in specific fields," Mordin let the smile spread further across his face, but was quickly back to his professional expression as the automatic doors opened to let four Nurses and two patients

"Zaera?" Mordin called quietly to his partner, standing to the side of the makeshift medical hall that now served the purpose of housing incoming patients for assessment on stretchers before further admittance to the hospital.

The Turian Nurse, somehow hearing his voice over the senseless muttering and blabbering of the patients, perked up and came to stand by the Salarian.

"What is it Mordin?" Zaera asked, concerned but careful enough to keep her voice down lest the patients overheard or got worried. "Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong. Odd. Yes to wrong but not accurate enough." Mordin spoke hushed and quickly, clearly thinking about what he spoke of. "Tell me. What species do you see?"

Following his outstretched arm towards all the patients in the medical hall Zaera scanned the patients on their stretchers.

"I see Asari, Turians, and Salarians, more Asari than others." She turned to the Salarian Doctor "What are you getting at Mordin?"

"Yes, good to see eyesight still sharp. Note incoming patients seem to be ONLY of Asari, Salarian and Turian origin. None of the minor races seem to have been affected." Mordin replied, his gaze not leaving the sea of patients.

"I… you're right. Not even one confirmed case from the other species, though we haven't heard from the Batarians. Are you sure this isn't a biological weapon from one of the races the Council has inevitably irritated and pushed too far?" Zaera was growing more confused and frustrated by this outbreak by the day.

"Original suspicions would point to Biological weapon, however no markers that would show signs of Bio weapon found in bodies of patients who did not survive the early stages of the disease." He said, following up his statement by producing his data pad from a pocket and entering some of his findings of the day. "Zaera, must ask, for today's report before night cycle begins. But not here, topic could unnerve patients."

Having moved to an adequately secluded area away from the patients, Zaera watched Mordin quickly alter a line, or twelve, of speculative work on the Blabbermouth-like Disease.

"Must ask, not peasant topic, head researches at STG requested. Have the survival rates changed on the subjects, Zaera?" Mordin asked looking up from his data pad and through the windows of the automatic doors towards the chambers full of the admitted patients.

A long exhausted sigh began her answer as she quickly checked her own notes. "Not that I can see. Surviving through the initial stages of the disease we can still see Turians at 12% survival, Salarians at 20%, Asari have the highest rate, though on one of your hunches I found that Mixed blood Asari descendants have a survival rate of 75%, while it would seem, that Pure blood Asari have the largest survival rate of all with a suspected 100%, well no deaths recorded so far in any case. The disease hasn't of yet entered any later stages among the advanced patients so I have no further knowledge on survival later on during treatment. None of the medical treatments we are applying seem to do anything! I don't understand this disease. Its like nothing we've experienced before!"

Zaera pushed herself away from the desk she was leaning on, clearly frustrated she began pacing the room, to the window, to the opposing wall and repeat. That was until Mordin brought her out of her rhythmic pacing.

"Zaera, please. Not helpful to anyone, especially patients, if you continue with this." Mordin said in the patient tone a Salarian would reserve for a juvenile hatchling too eager to see and experience everything, well as patient a tone as a Salarian, especially Mordin, could muster. "Focus on the now, allocate that that we can't yet work out as a hobby, something to do in your free time. No stressed deadline, no worries. No worries, better results."

Zaera stopped, considering her closest friend's words of advice before giving a small Turian smile. "I have no idea how you do it Mordin, but somehow you can find sense in every moment of chaos. Now best we get back in there. Its almost time for my round tending to the advanced patients with the other nurses, and you'll need a device with a faster extranet connection to reach Sur'Kesh in a reasonable time with your data."

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-Citadel, Council chambers, some time later-

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The three members of the Citadel Council, Councilor Sparatus (Turian), Councilor Tevos (Asari), and Councilor Valern (Salarian) were all together in a small antechamber that branched off from the main 'podium' on which the common folk usually saw them standing. The antechamber featured a beautifully polished wooden table carved from an ancient Asari Worsha tree with matching chairs placed around it. The crucial feature of the chamber was that it was a communication deadzone of sorts, no comm traffic came in or went out without their authorisation. The change of venue was of significance as this antechamber was the safest and private chamber in all of Citadel space, reserved for the discussion of war, spy network planning, and issues that affected the Citadel species as a whole. The last of which was why they were all here together in person, for the situation in Citadel space was getting closer to critical levels.

"Thank you for coming so swiftly Tevos, Sparatus." Councilor Valern greeted them when the digital check confirmed that no bugs or unauthorised organic bodies were present. "I believe you already have some suspicions as to why you are here."

"That we are Valern." Tevos agreed as she sat herself at the table, pouring herself a glass of Thessian wine, Sparatus seating himself beside her after giving Valern a nod. "Have the STG's bio labs uncovered anything on the nature of the disease? Goddess please tell me we are a step closer to a cure."

"Sadly we are not as close as we would like towards a cure. We are only just starting to understand this disease and have not discovered how it spreads." Valern spoke, noticeably careful about his wording not to sound defeatist or out of his depth. "It is not even a new strain of Blabbermouth. Its entirely alien."

"An Asari can dream I suppose."

"It was wishful thinking." Sparatus' voice, flanged like with all Turians was as stern as his demeanor. "However you would not have called us here if you had nothing. Spit it out if you will Valern."

"STG has been able to discover a possible point of origin of the Disease." He paused, most likely for dramatic effect. "The uncharted quadrant between Inner Council space and the Attican Travese…"

This suggestion immediate caught both Tevos' and Sparatus' immediate and full attention.

"You can't be… how can you be sure of this?" Tevos asked.

"I concur. Valern to make a claim like that would need damning evidence." Sparatus said before gauging Valerns facial expressions before adding, "Which you seem confident you have."

"Indeed I do. STG has analysed where all confirmed cases of this new disease, Blabbermouth as everyone has adopted to calling it even now still, come from and have narrowed them down to the colonies and settled worlds bordering the uncharted quadrant. Whatever this disease is, it is coming from in there."

"How viable is it to force an evacuation of the nearest colonies to the quadrant?" Tevos asked, deep in thought and very aware that more Asari colonies than any other species were on the Citadel space side of the border. "Do we have the ships and resources to depopulate the planets near the region?"

"Honestly? No. Even if we used all of the Citadel Defense Fleet's ships to evacuate population centres it would take too long, and that's not even taking into account the chaos, fear and confusion that would arise from withdrawing from the region." Sparatus said, giving his best impression of a Turian scowl, that or the face the Turian's ancestors made as they judged how to best kill their prey.

"We could actively cancel all licenses to expand into the uncharted quadrant." Valern suggested. "The STG would also be in the position to increase the number of probes and non-manned VI drones along the border to monitor traffic."

"What of the Batarian Hegemony?" Tevos asked, her creased brow accompanying the uncertainty in her voice. "They are becoming increasingly more Isolationist in their politics and behaviour towards the other Citadel species, making this ruling and 'advising' them to do the same on their side of the uncharted quadrant might be the pushing point to their secession from Galactic society as a whole."

"We will have to advise them to do the same nonetheless. We haven't heard of cases of 'Blabbermouth' from within Hegemony space, but I suspect it must be affecting them as well." Valern hypothesized. "It is for the greater good to quarantine the uncharted quadrant until we have a cure or have found the source of this disease."

"Whatever happens, organising all this, calling companies, producing the VI drone numbers necessary will take time." Sparatus spoke with a voice that left no room for disagreement, not that either Councilors Tevos or Valern were inclined to disagree. "In the mean time it could be beneficial to outfit a exploratory vessel and crew with bio hazard equipment and sending them into the uncharted quadrant, find the source and take samples."

"Are you insane, Sparatus?!" Tevos all but shouted at the Turian sitting in the seat next to her. "We're having trouble as it is keeping this disease from spreading and now you want to send a ship and its crew to actively seek out the disease's origin?"

"I second Sparatus' idea." Valern's voice had the effect of pouring ice from Thessia's polar caps down her back, the shock was visible and unrestrained.

"I, I don't understand, how can this be a good idea?"

"It makes logical sense to try and find the disease, parasite or otherwise at its source before it mutates to adapt to host bodies. The sooner we find its source and bring back a sample, the sooner we can create a vaccine or hopefully a cure."

"I… fine, but I insist the crew must be volunteers only, and they must know what they're going to be getting into, the risk, everything." Tevos had mixed feelings. The rational part in her saw this as the right choice, risk a crew to save civilised galaxy. On the other hand her inner love of all living things found this rationalising appalling and to be avoided at all costs.

"Agreed. We should get to work on the dossiers of specialists that could be willing to go on this mission as part of the crew." Sparatus said, accompanied with a curt nod. "Unless there is nothing else to discuss (?), I wish you a good day and that the Spirits keep you all in good health."


	2. Chapter 2

Thought seeing as I'd just started this story that I should bring out the next chapter quickly enough to keep the people interested…

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Chapter 2

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\- System Alliance Space, Sol -

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~" _~'We interrupt the scheduled programs to bring you a health and safety warning from the System Alliance Government.'_

 _This is a reminder to all citizens living under the System Alliance's banner;_

 _BE ALERT. BE VIGILANT. ACT!_

 _The first symptoms of a Mind Leech infection are hard to spot._

 _1_

 _Behaviours, mannerisms and outlook on the world around change. The victim begins to feel nauseous and will complain of 'voices' in the back of their mind. At this stage it is not too late to see a health care professional!_

 _2_

 _Visible signs of muscle spasms will be evident. The victim will commonly also portray random bouts of aggression. Note also a bruised-looking discoloration around the eyes and the temple. It is advised to at this point to call HAZSec, Hazardous Material Security to quarantine the victim until they can be assessed._

 _3_

 _Internal bleeding, taking on the appearance of large swollen bruises will be visible across the whole body. The victim is common to succumb to bouts of mumbling and primal behaviours and mannerisms. Call HAZSec immediately in case of Stage 3 infection! Victims are now beyond help and cannot be cured. Assisted Euthanasia is advised to help ease their passing before becoming a slave to the Mind Leeches._

 _4_

 _The victim has now become a slave to the Mind Leech hive. The victim will appear to walk in a staggered, forced manner. [WARNING] At this stage the victim is extremely dangerous and can spread Mind Leech spores! Stay at a safe distance at all times and call System Alliance local Military branch lest the infection spreads among the population._

 _'Thank you for your time. Remember; BE ALERT. BE VIGILANT. ACT!.'_

 _'A reminder to all citizens, if you see, hear, or suspect a sighting of a Mind Leech has been made report it to the Authorities immediately'_

 _'This has been a Health and Safety warning from the System Alliance Government.' ~"~_

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\- Earth, Cradle of humanity and Capital of the System Alliance -

It has been 10 years since Humanity began expanding beyond the orbits of Earth, Luna and Mars to the immediate outer reaches of the solar system. The discovery of heavily damaged and eroded ruins on Mars of a long extinct race, the Protheans, saw quick advancements in Faster Than Light travel engines and replaced much of the technology in the weapons industry. The new technology, the knowledge of other sentient beings in the galaxy, and the universe at their fingertips united humanity under the System Alliance and delve deeper into the solar system that was our home. It was here, in the outer most asteroid belts, that they found them. The Mind Leeches. The appearance of the Mind Leeches brought an end to the expansion of humanity. In seemingly an act of complete and utter negligence the Mind Leeches destroying Pluto's gravity locked moon and replacing it with what can only be suspected to be a 'point and shoot' Faster Than Light device. Ever since the Arrival of the Mind Leeches in human space the ability of mining the Asteroid belts and even the basic safety of all of Earth's colonies has been at stake with raids and full frontal assaults on populated worlds growing ever more common. Millions, some suspect close to a billion, of lives have been lost. It now also marks two years to this day since the Mind Leech's dreaded weapon, aptly named 'mind spores' have seemingly lost their effect on the greater human population, with only large concentrations of the spores actually succeeding in infecting Humans on the fronts. Nobody knows why or how, let alone what this means for the future of humanity as a whole.

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\- System Alliance Space, Mars battlefield, Tharsis Base -

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Commander John Shepard sighed and slumped in his chair, tearing his eyes away from the computer screen for the first time in what felt like years, but was probably only hours. He had been trying to plan a new strategy to disrupt the Mind Leech offensive on Mars for the greatest effect when Admiral Hacketts relief fleet was to arrive in Mars' orbit, and then from there onwards to work together to break up the lines of the Mind Leech defences they had set up in one of the many Industrial areas of Mars. The current conflict was also taking a toll of the ecosystem and had to be ended soon, lest years of terraforming go to waste. In short, he had a lot on his mind and seemingly not enough time to plan and do what had to be done.

A knock at the door heralded some variety for 'THE John Shepard' as he got up and let the soldier standing at the door in.

"Commander Shepard, Sir!" Came the formal and frankly ridiculous formality from the soldier before him given how well he knew her.

"Ash, you know you don't have to do that, there are no other officers around in here to force the stick up your arse." John said with a straight face, moments before his stern 'commander looking' image split into a warm smile. Stepping forward he enveloped her in a hug. "It's good to see you Ash."

"Well when I came back from patrol I heard you hadn't come out of your room for quite some time, so I though either you had buried yourself in work or you were doing, well something else." Ashley Williams (Gunnery Chief if one was to use the annoying military formality rubbish) said with a smirk. "Either way, it was worth coming in. plus it looks like you need a break."

"That I do, I've drawn up every possible tactic we could use against the Leeches and, well frankly there's nothing more I can do to help our situation any more."

"Well there is one thing that you can do to raise some local moral." Ash joked.

"And that, oh wise strategist would be?"

"Take me out for dinner John. Tonight. Its been a while since we have had time to ourselves and its been nice and quiet in the greater Tharsis base area, not to mention we have a couple of hours before getting ready for the offensive."

"I would love to Ash, but with military regs what if the higher ups find out about us?" John asked. Everyone knew the military regulations about fraternisation. Definitely something not to be messing around with in public in a military facility.

"Oh please, I'm pretty sure everyone already knows, and with the war going on I don't think anyone really cares. Plus it's good for local moral. I'm local and it certainly boosts my moral." She replied with a careless smile.

"Well your logic is pretty sound. You're on Williams." It looked like the day might not end with metaphorically drowning in paperwork after all. "Just let me get out of my gear and I'll meet you back here at my office?"

"You bet… Commander. Don't be late!"

John had just reached the doorway to his private quarters when he heard the well-known and dreaded wail of the perimeter defence alarms. The Mind Leeches were back. And if the distant shouts were anything to go by, they were here in force. Taking only mere moments to grab his weapons from his personal rack he ran for the nearest outpost, the happy moments from before long lost to the more pressing issues of here and now.

"Where's Private Jenkins!" John Shepard half asked, half shouted. "Get him on the horn and begin the offensive!"

The sought after private soon appeared out of the Armoury fumbling with the ammo clip he was trying to load into his rifle.

"Leeroy! Private Leeroy Jenkins!" John shouted to get his attention, once satisfied he would be heard he continued. "Rally the troops, and start the planned offensive, we can't wait any longer for Admiral Hackett's fleet for support."

Private Jenkins ran off to do his job. John proceeded to what sounded and looked like it was the front. One of the three frontal outposts pointing towards the industrial district they had lost to the Mind Leeches. He could see flashes of gun and cannon fire as tanks of heavy and light variety blasted high velocity depleted Uranium slugs toward the oncoming horde of Mind Leeches the successful hits being heralded by flashes of lights from explosions and carcases flying through clouds of irradiated toxic smoke.

Reaching one of the front most barricades John levelled his rifle and shouted to the troops near him. "Switch to incendiary ammunition! Prepare inferno and Liquid Nitrogen grenades!"

He assessed the distance to the horde before him and his barricade. "Hold your fire until optimum range, wait for the rifle to give the all clear!"

All around him John saw troops new to the Mind Leech front fumble with their ammo settings, the veterans having already set their guns to fire incendiary rounds.

As the Leeches came closer the first few barricades received the all clear from their rifles and opened fire, joining the tank volleys already ripping into the oncoming wall of legs, chitin, teeth, tentacles and claws, burning and crippling some and slowing down many others. A few moments later John's rifle chirped and gave him the green light and he engaged with the remainder of the troops at their barricades. The effect of the continuous volleys of fiery death began to take its toll on the charging Leeches.

"Not enough. Not enough." Shepard muttered to himself as he watched the Leeches come closer and closer. Some were now close enough to begin spitting acid, and a few even began glowing a weird blue colour. Much good it did them as those were quickly singled out by snipers before they could do anything such as fling bodies or barricades at the defenders. Left and right people started going down to stray sprays of acid, the burning spittle-like substance melting armour and undersuits. The injured started being pulled back by dedicated Medics as the remaining soldiers reshuffled their lines and threw grenades. The Mind Leeches were close now, too close.

"Prepare for close combat!" John shouted as he made his decision, drawing a Gladius shaped titanium-hard light blade. The close combat weapon named after the ancient Roman sword it was styled after was designed specifically to fight the close combat variant of the Mind Leeches and would come very much in handy in this fight.

Shepard readied his blade and looked to his right as something white moved in his peripheral vision finding none other than Ashley Williams standing beside him, a wicked smile on her face as she adjusted her grip on her Gladius.

"You're not getting out of this dinner date with me this easily, John." She called over as she shifted to embrace the charge they were about to receive. "I'm going to make sure you survive, and then we'll go to the most expensive place in town, and you're paying. Only fair."

John could only laugh at the woman at his side as he himself readied his stance to receive a charge; readying his blade to cut upwards the moment one of the chitin plated bastards got near him. He didn't have to wait for long.

An eager Leech charged at the barricade he stood behind and jumped at Shepard, coming short as the Commander thrust his blade upward slicing the arachnid's chest, then impaling the creature through its weirdly elongated neck. A satisfying *crack* and a soft suction noise accompanied his action of removing the blade before lunging at the next Mind Leech to charge at him.

Ash, Likewise was holding her ground as a bulky Leech spat acid and spores at her in close combat, only her flexibility and quick reaction time saving her from having a serious injury. Twisting where she stood she swung her sword arm in a downward arc cutting a bloody gash across her opponent, causing the acid sacs to burst and spill all over the leech, showing that their own weapons could still hurt them. A soldier beside her went down as he over reached and left himself open to a tentacle that lunged at his chest, ignoring the kinetic barrier and plunging right into the weak spot at the join between two plates. Ash quickly stepped around the dissolving Leech on the ground and cut at the victorious foe to her right before confirming the soldier's wound to have been fatal.

"They didn't charge any enslaved Humans at us this time! Lucky for us!" John shouted over to Ash as he dispatched another Mind Leech and drew his sidearm to assist a soldier further down the line.

"Agreed! Seems like the Leeches are running out of cannon fodder AND fool proof plans to beat us!" Ash was riding an adrenaline rush. It seemed as though none of the arachnids could, or would best her, and it felt good.

"Hey Ash! Seeing as we are doing this together, and it is technically night time, does this count as dinner date?"

"You may be handy with that knife John, but you're not getting out of it this easily!"

"Commander Shepard, Sir!" Came the voice of Private Leeroy Jenkins from behind the pair, breaking up the happy bit of banter the two were sharing.

"Jenkins, what are you doing out on the front?" John had to all but shout as the Leeches screeched to announce another charge.

"Comm tower's generator got fried by a bunch of suicidal Leeches. We're getting the backup generator kicking but this couldn't wait!" Jenkins Ducked behind a light Tank tyre as a rogue blob of acid flew his way. "We lost contact with Outpost Charlie, last communication they said was that they were being overrun by a surprisingly large horde of Leeches."

"Shit, alright if you get Comms back up tell them I'll be on my way-"

"Shepard!" Ash cut in. "John, they need you here. You just being here is good for the moral. I'll go, you come after me when I reach the outpost, deal?"

"Deal, but take my team with you, they're the best save us."

Ash was already signalling to John's team of elites when she gave him her reply "Wont be long!" with that she ran off in the direction of what should be a relatively safe route to Charlie Outpost.

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\- Some time, lots of incendiary rounds and Mind Leech corpses later -

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Ashley stood alongside Shepard's team of elites not 300 metres off from their goal when they saw the biggest, bulkiest, and certainly most ugly Mind Leeches blocking their path to the outpost which by now was but a ruin of its former 'glory'. They weren't facing her and her adopted team but were instead seemingly toying with the remaining soldier from outpost Charlie, herding the limping and heavily bleeding 'toy' around amongst them. This was until they seemingly sensed the presence of the greater threat and turned their hideous heads to face Ash and company.

Not waiting for the Leeches to take the initiative, Ash raised her rifle in unison with the elites by her side, raining burning rounds on the monstrosities. However, rather than whither and die like at the other front near outposts Alpha and Bravo, only one Leech went down, the others encasing themselves in a blue aura that absorbed the round with ease before throwing the blue aura in waves at her and her team.

Dropping to the ground Ash avoided the rippling and crackling mass of blue flying over her, two of her team behind her weren't so lucky and caught the aura square in the shoulders, right and left respectively which the blue mass began to shake apart on a molecular level, much to the agony of the two elite soldiers.

"Watch the bastards!" Ash shouted to no one in particular as she and the remaining two members of her team focussed their fire on the nearest Leech, overwhelming it's blue shield-like aura and frying it where it stood.

Two of the Bulky Mind Leeches remained and, witnessing their brethren falling to the rounds of the humans charged flinging objects, anything that could be moved at them as they rushed towards their foes.

A rogue roughly broken off pole flew through the air and impacted with the helmet of the soldier to Ash's right, snapping his neck. Ash and the remaining member of her team's fire brought down one more Leech as the final foe closed the distance, forgoing the throw everything tactic for a blind charge. The Leech ran straight into Ash's shoulder, knocking her to the ground and dove onto the last of her team. The two wrestled, claws against armoured fists with one another, until, seeing no way out the human beneath the mass of chitin and hatred roared a battle cry that would have made his ancestors proud and triggered an incendiary grenade, burning the two into unrecognisable masses of black.

The loss of her team to the blue glowing bastards certainly wasn't helping her moral when Ash pushed herself up off the ground and half stumbled half walked over to where the remaining soldier from Charlie outpost lay groaning from a puncture wound.

"Come one, you've got to get up." She could see in the distance the reflections of chitin armour in the dark. More Mind Leeches were on their way. When the wounded soldier moved too slowly she lifted him up to rest on her shoulder and began walking towards the ruins before her.

Ashley dropped the injured soldier to the floor. She was exhausted, frustrated and had almost run out of Ammunition clips for her rifle. Having little time for carefulness she unceremoniously pushed her charge into the remaining corner of what had once been the guard tower of Charlie base and brought up a gauze pad coated with Medi-gel from the pack on the injured soldiers thigh.

"Hold still and shut up." Ashley didn't have time to be tactful; from what she had seen she guessed the Leeches were not five minutes away and wouldn't give her the courtesy of waiting.

She fumbled with the Gauze pad as she removed a panel of the wounded soldier's armour, applying the pad to a gaping wound and holding it there for a moment. A glance at a dog tag gave the soldier a name. "Look, Carter is it?"

"Sir" Was all Carter could hiss through his clenched teeth.

"I haven't got enough time to hold the pad and let it seal against your skin. I'm going to have to get you to hold this while I signal for help. Can you do that for me?" A nod was the only reply she got and needed. "Good, here take my pistol. If they come for you and I'm not here, don't give them anything to use."

With that over and done with Ashley checked over ammo clips one last time, modified her rifle to shoot incendiary rounds with a new clip inserted, and walked out of the ruin to clear up the signal to HQ, which hopefully still stood.

"Tharsis Base, come in. I repeat Tharsis base come in, this is Gunnery chief Williams." Ashley began to worry, had Tharsis base been lost? Was John alright? Did he make it out in time? Would she ever see him ag-

"This is Tharsis base, we read you." Ash could tell it was John's voice as clear as if he was right beside her in the ruins of the forward outpost.

"John, thank God you're alright!" Ash let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"It's good to hear you too, we've managed to hold out here for now. The Leeches pulled back not too long ago." Though she could not see his face she could tell he was exhausted. _'Probably decided to try and kill every leech himself'_ she thought to herself before looking over her shoulder, hearing the screeching noise that was a tell tale sign of a Mind Leech charge.

"John. Listen. I made it to the outpost, there was only one survivor. The rest of my team didn't make it."

"Damn. I'll send a team over, you'll be able to safely hold it until dawn that way, long enough for Admiral Hackett's fleet to arrive."

The screeching of the Leeches grew louder. They weren't far away. She was running out of time.

"John, don't send them. They wont reach us in time. I'm sorry…" Ash headed back towards the ruin of the guard tower, looking over a pile of rubble to see the pack of arachnid-like creatures running towards her location, some of them blowing an odd blue.

"Ash wait don't do this!" John's voice grew clearly frantic as he shouted orders to someone in the background to give him a vehicle, anything to get to the outpost faster

"I love you John. Give them hell for me. No Mercy. No Surrender."

"Ash wait!-" Ashley shut off her comm device and hefted her rifle, planting it firmly into her shoulder. It was the Williams way to go down fighting, and she wasn't about to disappoint her ancestors.

"No Mercy…"

The Leeches came closer, some lost to the fire from her rifle.

"No surrender."

The pack of Mind Leeches tore through the remains of the forward outpost, ripping, stabbing, cutting, and biting at anything that showed resistance to their advance. Carter, the injured soldier fell quickly inside the guard tower ruin as Ash was pushed further into the open with every attack until she stumbled and fell against an insignificant object behind her. Her rifle lost to her, the Leeches tore at their prey. The pain quickly became unbearable and Ashley passed out long before succumbing to the wounds inflicted to her.

By the time John Shepard and a team of quick response marines got to the outpost only the slowest and injured Mind Leeches remained, the fastest having retreated into the ruins of the Martian industry sector that they currently held. John found Ash slumped against a wrecked generator; the price the Leeches had paid to take her down evident all around her. Once the outpost had been secured John repatriated Ashley's body from the ruins, and returned with her to the main compound that made up Tharsis base.

John looked up to the sky as his comm device pinged with a message, the Alliance fleet had arrived and was repositioning in low Mars orbit. The distant booming noises and rising dust clouds heralding the beginning of Admiral Hackett's fleets half of the Mars offensive, the orbital bombardment of the industrial sector taken by the Leeches, began. The Martian battlefield was going to be a victory for mankind, but it certainly felt nothing like victory to him. Too much, too many lives had been lost this day.

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\- Citadel Space, Citadel, Zakera Ward Main Hospital -

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Zaera was making her rounds though the advanced patients wing with some of her fellow Nurses, checking up on the silently muttering patients in on their stretchers. The occasional muscle spasm, and lip movement of the sedated victims were the only sign that something was not right with the resting forms around her.

"Has there been any advancement in the condition of the patients, Zaera?" The most senior Nurse asked. The Nurse was a 400-year-old Asari from a core world hospital with over 250 years of experience. She one of many that were transferred from other hospitals to help those that were understaffed due to the demand for taking care of those affected by the disease they were struggling to understand.

"Yes, actually there has. Although it isn't much, we have noticed that some of the more advanced patients are now also showing signs of discolouration in skin pigments and Chitin plating, this is in addition to an increase in the muscular spasms and, well, they now 'talk' in their sleep too."

"The spasms and blabbering I was briefed on by the Dr. Mordin Solus. This Discolouration however, I was not aware of." The Asari Nurse, Aetha T'nasi if Zaera remembered correctly, was clearly surprised by the newest revelation. "Is this symptom present in any of the patients in this hospital?"

"There are some cases here now too, yes." Zaera led the senior Nurse towards one of the stretchers furthest away from the doorway. "This is patient 12. We believe her to be the closest to advancing to the next stage of the disease, we are prepared to isolate her at a moment's notice."

Pointing with one of her talons towards the patient's exposed skin on her arm she continued. "Note the patches of colour pigments changing on her skin. We aren't quite sure what colour they will rest on but we suspect it will rest on a shade of very light purple, as it is found frequently on Asari patients in our sister hospitals."

"What about on Turians? And Salarians?"

"So far not enough Turian and Salarian patients have survived through the early stages to tell what discolouration, if any occur on their skins and chitin plates. Among Turians it seems as though they become allergic to their own bodies and we quickly run out of supplies to tackle the antibiotic rejection." Zaera paused as she looked over her notes. "Among Salarians it seems that many patient's bodies suffer from random haemorrhaging and the stress of multiple surgeries seems to be the prevalent factor in their mortality rate."

"Thank you Zaera, I understand form a fair number of the senior staff that many of the patients here owe you their lives." The Asari smiled a warm honest smile. "I look forward to working beside you, perhaps I might even learn a thing or two."

"I- I uh thank you Aetha, I –uugghhh." Without warning Zaera experienced the biggest headache she had had in weeks, an ever-present affliction she had had since starting working here. Zaera had tabled it away as lack of sleep, but now she was not so sure. Dropping her data pad to grab at her face, Zaera sought to steady herself on anything within her reach, finally grabbing hold of one of the tables at the base of the nearest stretcher.

"Zaera! Are you alright? Can you hear me?" The disembodied voice seemed distant, becoming almost unrecognisable.

"I, I can't… No.."

"Zaera what is it, talk to me? Someone get Doctor Solus! Zaera, we're going to lie you down, ok?"

 _"N-No … M-mercy… No… s-s-surrender."_

"The Goddess be damned, what is she saying?" The disembodied voice grew faint as the frantic shouting belonging to Mordin echoed in Zaera's mind.

 _"No Mercy… No Surrender…"_

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\- Same time, same place -

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Mordin ran between the stretchers, quickly closing the distance from the room he was in and the Nurses bunched around a hastily erected stretcher.

"Zaera! Nurse T'nasi, what happened? Must know, close friends." Was all Mordin could say as he slowed to a stop beside his closest, and only friend. "Is she alright?"

"Dr. Solus, I am sorry, but I believe she, I believe that the disease has spread to her. I am not sure how but it has." She tried to put on what she hoped to be a comforting tone as she knew how much it hurt to lose someone close.

Mordin frantically looked through his notes trying to find something, anything. An email from an old STG colleague, titled 'Ship to Uncharted Quadrant', popped up but he dismissed it quickly. Finding one of his speculative notes he opened it up, read its contents as fast as his mind allowed he turned to the conglomeration of Nurses before him. "We may yet stop the disease in its tracks. Find a stasis chamber and place her within it. If the symptoms slow then do so for as many other patients as possible. Must keep her in there until we know what to do."

Although stasis chambers were seen as an almost archaic technology, having only been used back when space travel, even with mass effect technology, was slow going and now only to preserve the bodies of deceased. All this however did not deter the Nurses from doing the Doctor's bidding. If this worked it could potentially save many lives.

Mordin sat down in a chair he wheel over next to Zaera's stretcher and began talking, about nothing in particular; the specifics in the technology behind the sophisticated anti-grav systems on the Citadel to some of the non-classified missions he took part in during his employment with the STG.

In the mean time Mordin scrolled through files and messages on his Omni-tool until he came across the message he received from his old STG contact.

 _~Ship to Uncharted Quadrant~_

 _Dr Solus,_

 _The Council is putting together a ship and crew to fly into the Uncharted Quadrant. Councilor Valern and the Dalatrass themselves spoke to us._

 _The mission is apparently to find the 'source' or at the least a 'pure' form of the disease so that we can create an antidote, vaccine, anything to counter it in the labs back on Sur'Kesh._

 _I put your name forth based on your experience with and work on [Redacted]. Not surprisingly many agreed with me. I was permitted to send you this message in advance to the formal invitation to the mission._

 _I hope you accept and do join the mission._

 _Kind Regards_

 _Dr Vardin Pahehi._

Mordin got up from his chair, bid his closest friend farewell and walked towards the Hospital's front door. He had a friend to save and a Mission to join.


	3. Chapter 3

I must sincerely apologise for the rude and meanness that was the long wait between updates. In short University got real busy, personal issues, and I got out of the habit of writing and it took me all this time to get back into it. Once again I apologise for this. BUT now that I am back, this chapter is a bit different than the previous two as there is no citadel arc, though fear not next chapter we'll be going right back to Mordin and company. Let us get on with it! I present to you spaceships in space with pew pew lasers and whatnot in…

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Chapter 3

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\- Controlled System Alliance Space, LMO (Low Mars Orbit) -

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~"~' _Welcome to Battlespace, I'm Emily Wong._ _We interrupt the scheduled programs to bring you an update from the Martian front, where our brave men and women on the planet's surface have recently won the first major victory._

 _The victory on the Martian frontier has raised many questions such as_ "What does this mean for the greater campaign against the Mind Leeches?", _and_ "Is this the beginning of the end for the solar conflict, and the threat of extinction we face across the greater colonised regions of Sol?" _. To answer these questions we return to Michael Peterson have been aboard the_ SSV Kilimanjaro, _captained by the famous war hero Admiral Steven Hackett,_ _since the_ _'Hammer' strike fleet amassed in the safety of Luna's orbit. The strike fleet containing mostly Second fleet assets as well as remnants from First, and Fourth fleet has amassed at a secret location in deep space to begin the final offensive against the remaining Mind Leech space assets above the red planet.'_

 _{The camera feed switches away from the news reader at the desk to a reporter standing in a very utilitarian metal corridor}_

 _'_ _Thank you Emily. We are currently aboard the_ SSV Kilimanjaro _, the flagship of the System Alliance second fleet, tasked with wresting complete control of Low Mars Orbit from the Mind Leech space craft. As I understand it the space battle is still in full swing above Mars' Northern Hemisphere, with elements of Third Fleet denying the alien space assets from escaping its gravity well. The battle's endgame, Admiral Hackett's remaining elements of Second, First, and Fourth fleet, will jump in as close as possible to Mars below the combat zone and hopefully crush the enemy between the firepower of his and Captain David Anderson's space assets._

 _Captain David Anderson is a well known name among Earth's navy for his initial victories against the Mind Leech invasion force, using the gravity wells of Jupiter's moons Enceladus, Europa, and Ganymede to mask the magnetic and gravitational footprint of the handful of Frigates and pair of Destroyers that came under his command through exhaustion of superior ranked officers, a feat of tactical genius that has been mimicked by other captains countless times since. A lot is riding on Captain Anderson, who is in command of the fleet assets pinning down the Leeches as we speak, as a victory above Mars would free up further space assets to be redirected to other battlefields across Sol. It goes without saying, that many tacticians see a victory above Mars as the first step to defeating the Leech foe._

 _Within the time window remaining between now and when we arrive above the red planet we have been given permission to film aboard the bridge, a first for Battlespace, and ANY news anchor since the dawn of the conflict._

 _Speaking to personnel it is clear that spirits are high aboard the First of the line Armoured Battleship, and we suspect the whole of second fleet as the Mind Leech armada appears still be held down and faltering, cut off from reinforcements and hemmed into a relatively small combat zone in the Martian Magnetic field.'_

 _{A crew member of the SSV Kilimanjaro signals the reporter from off camera}_

 _'_ _I have just been informed that we can come aboard the bridge now, please bare with us as we switch over to a smaller recording device and move through security screening procedures.'_

 _._

 _._

The SSV _Kilimanjaro_. The technological masterpiece of the human fleet, one of only four Armoured Battleship class military vessels currently in service, hung silently in deep space, surrounded by the largest fleet mankind had ever seen, mixed and matched as it was.

The Armoured Battleship, coming in at 857 metres in length, was roughly the shape of a 'York class Cruiser' with the rough shape of wings either side protruding from the hull horizontally (serving as additional space for an armament of eight swiveling cannons designed for anti-ship combat, two above and two bellow on each 'wing') and a healthy amount of armour plating on the ship's bow which served to house and protect the state of the art laser array that had replaced the York class Cruiser's cannon. Put simply, at range the Armoured Battleship could cut you in two, and close up the vessel could pepper you with anti ship rounds and ram you until your ship becomes nothing more than a floating cloud of space debris for the next generation to worry about. Steven Hackett liked his ship.

Admiral Hackett stood on the command bridge, stoic as ever, as he watched the stars moving ever so slightly outside the bridge viewport with the slow turn of his ship. What Humanity had learnt from the damaged ruins on Mars before the war had allowed them to understand FTL travel, modernise their arsenal, and upgrade communication systems between planetary bodies to experience only minutes of delay between the bases on Jupiter's moons and Earth, and a little more time delay at most between the survivors on the Pluto outpost and Earth. Hackett was brought out of his musings as the Combat information Centre was 'invaded' by a civilian reporter and a small, annoying floating drone camera, an incredibly clumsy reporter at that, as he stumbled over electronic spare parts strapped to the walls of the CIC that wasn't covered in screens or quick access panels that lead to the cabling between the walls of this room and the hull proper.

 _Bloody media,_ Hackett cursed to himself as he checked up on a serviceman strapped to his station before turning towards the civilian and his little floating devil. _A necessary evil in times like these…_

"Ah, Admiral Hackett!" he exclaimed, noting the Admiral's gaze on him. Michael Peterson walk began a slow stroll over careful to not trip over any lips or protrusions on the floor of the Battleship's CIC. "The name is M-"

Peterson wasn't able to continue much further into his introduction as the LADAR specialist called out to his intended Interviewee. "Admiral! IFF has picked up 27 friendly ships entering the rendezvous point. Magnetic signature confirms the ships as the stragglers from the Enceladus _geschwader_ , er, squadron, sir. They've made good time through the debris field in sector DS- 22, 990, 04."

Hearing this, Hackett sighed in relief internally. Not that he was eager to fly the larges fleet in human history into the massive cluster fuck of debris and death that was Low Mars Orbit, but he had no love for reporters, interviews and having to take his attention away from the more pressing issues at hand to talk about things like 'are you happy with the quality of ships under your command' or do you think it was wrong to only teach engineering and ship maintenance courses system wide in Russian and German?' (as was pushed through humanity's parliament to ensure the languages would not die out in the ever expanding colonies in the solar system), or the ever frequent 'should the industry fields of central to eastern Europe be dismantled and spread across the planet?'.

 _All reporters want to ask everything and hear nothing._ Hackett thought to himself. He knew it was very generalized but it wasn't an entirely inaccurate statement.

"Not to be rude, Mr. Peterson, but we're going to have to cut the allotted time short here." Hackett turned back to the eager reporter. "The last elements of the 'Hammer' fleet have called in ahead of time and we will be making our final jump towards Mars shortly."

"Oh, of course Admiral." Clarkson said before pausing and looking over the bustle that was the last few crew in the CIC buckling into their stations. "Would there be enough time for me to ask some –"

"- which means I'm going to ask you to leave and go to the designated non-combat zones in deck 2, immediately." Hackett cut him off as the ship lurched and spooled up its FTL engines before the stars outside turned to streaks, a crewmember shouting out to the CIC in general of the successfully entry into FTL speeds. Hackett gave the lingering reporter a stare that could have melted military grade ship hulls in seconds, his mind now solely on the upcoming battle rather than pleasantries. "Means now. You will be able to interview those not busy there to your heart's content."

"But I was assur- ***** Sigh ***** yes of course Admiral." Michael Peterson was obviously not pleased but he knew his place aboard the ship and proceeded to follow Admiral Hackett's orders all the while talking animatedly to his annoying hovering drone camera.

"That feel good, sir?" the XO of the _Kilimanjaro_ , Herbert Ponting, asked the Admiral.

"Oh god yes."

Without a second glance at the retreating civilian Hackett marched over to his command terminal at the centre of the CIC and strapped himself into the chair. With an automatic motion he slid the headgear over his head and adjusted the microphone and eyepiece, his heartbeat rising with the anticipated exit from FTL.

The voice of the navigator came over the Kilimanjaro's ship wide comm system.

~" _Exit Coordinates confirmed. Green lights across the board, Hammer is a go."~_

 _~"Beginning FTL exit protocols"~_

~ _"Exiting FTL in 5…"~_

"Disabling artificial gravity generators through all parts of the ship!"

~ _"…4…"~_

"Confirmed shut down of Grav generators!"

 _~"..3…"~_

"Ship to ship rounds chambered and locked down!"

~ _"…2…"~_

"Laser Array primed! Batteries charged!"

~ _"…1. Exiting Faster than light stream."~_

The SSV Kilimanjaro burst from the faster than light corridor along side the rest of 'Hammer', the sun lit red curvature of Mars growing closer as they decelerated. The battle raged on quietly above them and below them, the glint of metal reflecting light and weapons fire the only tell tale signs that a conflict was underway in Low Mars Orbit.

"Hackett to 'Hammer'," The Admiral called out through the comm system. "Begin secondary maneuver and engage Mind Leech space assets. SSV _Moscow_ , proceed to designated coordinates below 'Hammer' formation and begin orbital bombardment. God speed."

Switching off his ship to ship comm device Hackett drew his attention to the crew in the CIC. "Orders are to give no quarter. Fire at largest threat on the battlefield and work down the hierarchy. Fire at will."

The SSV _Kilimanjaro_ hung silently in space as targeting computers sought out to identify friends from foes. The batteries of broadside cannons installed on either wing protrusions swiveled as the IFF allocations were cleared up and the battle could commence. The entire ship shuddered as the broadside cannons, finding their targets, proceeded to open fire, the blue trails of Eezo the only visual sign betraying the speeding projectiles as they traveled the short expanse of space and buried themselves with explosive force into the targeted Mind Leech vessel.

The Leech ship, looking like it was a cross between curved almost melted looking surfaces of metal, sharp edges and a mean looking spinal cannon, currently firing rock and metal organic looking projectiles at an outflanked Frigate (the SSV _Sydney_ if Hackett's eyes weren't betraying him), crumpled as the _Kilimanjaro_ 's rounds impacted. The small flicker of blue was the only sign that the Leech ship actually had had a form of shielding, not something that could withstand a targeted barrage, but a shield nonetheless to take note of.

"Target Bogey 01 confirmed destroyed." The crewman watching over the starboard broadside cannons called out. "Swiveling cannons A1 and B1, locking on Bogey 02."

Steven Hackett glanced over his seat's terminal. _No damage so far. Good. SSV_ Los Angeles _reporting minor damage to crew deck, still operable._

His thoughts were interrupted when the crewman called out once more "Cannons A1 and B1 loaded and primed. Lock on Bogey 02 confirmed. Firing!"

"Cannon crew!" Hackett called out, his gaze never straying from the map on his display. "Target all broadside cannons at Bogeys directly ahead. Carve a path to that dreadnought-class at the heart of their swarm! Artillery crew, align the laser array on that dreadnought!"

The chorus or affirmatives was echoed by the soft whirr of gears turning in the hull as the cannons sought to point forward and the lenses reoriented to counter the effect of Mars' gravity well.

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\- Controlled System Alliance Space, LMO (Low Mars Orbit), same time -

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Captain David Anderson doubled over his terminal as his ship was knocked into a spin.

"Status update!" Anderson shouted to the CIC of the SSV _Hadrian_ , the destroyer he was currently in command of. "How much damage did we receive from that shot?"

The SSV _Hadrian_ was a tough ship, being a shorter and generally smaller version of the Armoured Battleships minus the expensive laser array and only armed with four swiveling cannons (two above and two below) and six torpedo bays, but she was no battleship, and David wasn't willing to push his and the crew's luck today.

"Sensors show loss of pressure in the port side crew deck in sectors C3 to C6!" Came the equally shouted reply from a floating Pressley who had come loose from the straps on his chair. "Damage to the port side Stability Augmentation System, 50% are non-responsive. No damage to the torpedo bays, we are still operational."

"Where did that shot come from?" David Anderson shouted to no one in particular as he tightened his straps, he didn't want to come loose the next time they were struck. He couldn't see where or who had hit them, Alliance ship design never came with convenient windows, only those for when VR interfaces were nonfunctional and manual steering was necessary. "Someone get a target lock on the unlucky bastard that hit us!"

"Target is a Frigate-class Mind leech craft, it's shadowing the dreadnought class Leech ship in quadrant R-18, 74." The LADAR operator called out. "Sir, we can't take out both ships in our condition."

"Then we'll take on one ship at a time. Target the Leech frigate with a full load of disruptor torpedoes, use the debris field in quadrant R-20, 73 for cover from the dreadnought's armament."

"Aye aye sir."

"Torpedo bays, status update." Anderson's heart was racing. They had been lucky with the direct hit, and he didn't trust his luck to survive another.

"Port Torpedo bays have encountered a mechanical issue! The loader is out of operation."

" Starboard Torpedo bays loaded, awaiting lock-on confirm command!"

"We'll make do with half, we can still do this." Anderson muttered to himself.

"Designating Frigate as Bogey 012. Dreadnought designated as Bogey 013." The LADAR operator shouted. "Lock-on confirmed on Bogey 012!"

"Torpedoes, you are green to go." David Anderson called out as he brought up a two dimensional 'battle-map'. The large red and blue blips on it marked hostile (red) and friendly (blue) IFFs and the chaos of small arrow heads marked all known slow moving (Torpedoes and mines) projectiles in play on the battlefield

"Torpedoes away!"

"Tracking torpedo trajectory!" Anderson sat there in silence listening to the LADAR operator and the crew call out orders to their subordinates, real time updates on the torpedoes and to the repairs below deck, crew casualties, the general mayhem one was to expect from combat in space.

He squinted at the 'battle-map' taking up much of his terminal's screen as the three arrow-marked torpedoes turned and sped through the debris and out into the open vastness of space between the SSV _Hadrian_ and the Frigate-class Leech ship.

"Torpedo impact estimated in T minus 15 seconds."

Anderson diligently followed the projectiles' trajectories, scrolling the 'battle-map' as they neared the edge of the display.

"T minus ten seconds."

The blip of the Leech Frigate and Dreadnought were now visible, positioned dangerously close to one another. They were moving at such a slow pace Anderson considered for a moment whether they were merely intact derelicts and not the culprit of the shot from earlier. A change to the Dreadnought's signature and the appearance of small clusters of unknown projectiles swept that rumination aside in an instant.

"Five seconds until estimated impact." The targeting technician called out.

"Sir! Dreadnought appears to have produced a concentrated field of debris in the torpedoes' paths!" The LADAR operator shouted in alarm. His discovery, however, came too late and the torpedoes would be too close to avoid the debris field that now protected the majority of the Leech Frigate.

"Impact!" The targeting technician's voice boomed through the CIC once more. "Confirmed hit on Starboard engine housing on Bogey 012. Torpedoes 1 and 3 perished in the debris field. Bogey 012's propulsion and maneuverability has been crippled."

"Port Torpedo bay 3 reports battle readiness-"

Anderson's eyes never left the battle-map in front of him, so when designated Bogey 013's blip changed its course and turned towards the SSV _Hadrian_ there was minimal delay between realisation and his next plan to keep the ship and its crew alive.

"The dreadnought is coming our way." He called out. "Helmsman, take us closer to object H134. Use it as cover when necessary."

"Aye Aye Captain!" was all that came over the intercom from the Pilot of the SSV _Hadrian_. "Moving towards the debris-"

"Shit! Sir, Incoming missiles!" The LADAR operator called out. "The dreadnought has fired on us!"

"Pilot! Move us to-"

"I got this, Captain!"

The ship lurched as it suddenly accelerated and tilted nose down towards the red planet, and continued in a large controlled forward spin.

David Anderson watched his real time battlemap display on his monitor with unparalleled attention. The two blips of the missiles, glorified Eezo enhanced rocks really, sped towards the SSV _Hadrian_. If they were going to survive this it was going to be close. His stomach complained as the pilot turned the ship again mid turn, the missiles shot past the _Hadrian_ by a metre or two at most, and the ship righted itself again, speeding towards the debris they wanted to hide behind themselves.

Anderson couldn't believe that they had just dodged a bullet, quite literally. _Alright, I have got to know who that pilot is._

"Pilot, I never got to know your name!" David called out, accompanied with a sigh of relief. "And with that stunt you just pulled I'm going to have to thank someone other than 'pilot'."

"Jeff Moreau, sir! Though the guys call me 'Joker'." Joker replied over his shoulder. "And just so you know, I'm glad this ship could handle a maneuver like this. Never tried it in anything bigger than a frigate before!"

"Bloody hell, I like you Jeff," David said, sinking back into his chair momentarily. "You might be green but you're good. Now lets see if we can't survive tangling with that Leech dreadnought"

"You got it sir!" Joker said enthusiastically. "Like they say in the old Vids; _'The only good bug, is a dead bug!'_ that and I don't exactly want that dreadnought to become the reason for Mars becoming a bug planet."

"Captain, Sir!" one of the Navigation Specialists, Margaret Traynor if David remembered correctly, called out. "The dreadnought has realigned itself."

"What do you mean Specialist?" David asked. "Realigned itself to where?"

"It appears its focusing its attention on 'Hammer' fleet," Specialist Traynor paused to glance at her battle map readouts. "Specifically the quadrant Admiral Hackett was reported to be in."

"Bloody hell, if they take out Hackett the drop in morale alone could lose us this war…" Anderson said to himself more than anyone else before looking over to the SSV _Hadrian_ 's young pilot. "Joker, you think you can get us throught the debris field and behind that bastard of a dreadnought? I have just the idea as to pulling their attention away from the Admiral…"

"Hey sir! That sounds like you're planning something reckless," Jeff threaded his fingers together before cracking them all simultaneously. "Lucky for you I can do reckless in my sleep. Ok, lets do this thing!"

Without much further ado the SSV _Hadrian_ ignited its engines and pulled out from behind the massive bit of space debris that had been serving as their cover and shot into the cloud of debris the dreadnought had created to fend off the earlier torpedoes. David had to thank his years of zero gravity training more than once as the bobbing and weaving of the ship tried its hardest to make him surrender his military grade breakfast he had eaten god knows how long ago. Before he knew it though, and only with one scrape from a close call with a slightly magnetic piece of debris that had tried to slam into their starboard turret, they had made it through the debris field and had fairly empty space between them and the Mind Leech dreadnought.

"Incoming projectiles from target!" The LADAR operator called out. "I count three missiles inbound, current trajectory they will impact port side in ten seconds."

"Joker!"

"Aye, Sir!" Joker shouted as he lurched the ship downward, the nose of the ship now aligning with Mars' horizon. "You don't have to tell me twice!"

The _Hadrian_ sped off on its new trajectory as the missiles came closer. Anderson watched the three blips on his battle map as the _Hadrian_ 's arrow icon moved on the two Dimensional representation of the battlefield, though something about the missiles caught David's attention. They were turning.

"JOKEERR!" He shouted out, having beaten the LADAR operator to the punch. "The missiles are locked on to us! Continue to evade!"

"Got it!" Jeff said before muttering to himself "Oh yes, 'Join the Alliance Navy!' he says. 'Become a pilot he says!', 'No point letting all that talent for tech and VR go to waste' he says… I could have been winning in bot fights back on earth but noo, instead my ship is about to be prooooobed-" Joker barrel rolled the _Hadrian_ around a rogue fuselage of a destroyed Alliance ship, losing one of the tailing missiles to the debris field gravitationally locked to the floating piece of metal. "- by make that two guided missiles shot at us by glorified huge spore and acid spitting cockroaches!"

As Jeff Moreau straightened out the destroyer class spaceship he noticed that the dreadnought loomed ahead, closer than it had been before. As he checked the distance between the _Hadrian_ and the missiles following him Jeff got an idea, an idea that, should it work would most likely make him one of the most popular pilots and the biggest chick magnet of the century… or so he liked to think.

"Captain, Sir! I've got an idea," Joker called out. "though you may not like it very much."

"Honestly I'm game for anything that'll get these missiles off our back!" David replied as he readjusted one of the straps on his seat, evidently not content with the idea of floating haphazardly through the CIC with the next violent turn of the ship. "So with the goal of surviving to buy you all a round next shore leave, shoot."

"If I can bridge the gap between us and Leech mothership over there I can lose the missiles AND do some damage to the enemy ship in one go!"

"You mean the old turn at the last second trick?"

"One and the same." Jeff said, a cocky grin plastered on his face. "I can do it sir."

Anderson looked at the battle map, the missiles were gaining on them, and there was no debris anywhere nearby in which they could lose any more of them. Sighing he gave Joker the go ahead to do something he was sure a destroyer class spaceship was definitely not designed for.

"Team Joker, blasting off at the speed of light!" Jeff said to himself as he pushed the SSV _Hadrian_ 's engines to the limit without engaging the FTL drive.

Rocketing towards the dreadnought he could see plumes of explosions appearing and just as quickly extinguishing in the distance near where the Admiral's ship ought to be, seemingly racking up a kill count and a half. Snaking the _Hadrian_ in a lazy zig zag so as not to be an easy target for whatever counted as the Leech variant of the GARDIAN defense lasers, Joker made sure to keep the dreadnought's rear end, specifically the engine housing in his sight.

"Come on baby, almost there." He whispered to the ship as softly one would to a nervous horse.

Joker suddenly banked the ship as part of the dreadnought's hull plating opened and debris was shot out in his direction, missing the ship narrowly.

 _'_ _Too close! Definitely much too close.'_ Jeff thought as he realigned himself with his desired target. _'Just a little bit more…'_

"Sir, Engineering reports engines 1 and 3 nearing critical!" A voice behind Joker called out. "Automatic shut down will commence if they get any hotter!"

"Just keep them running!" Joker shouted over his shoulder. "We've almost got this."

 _'_ _Getting close now…'_

The _Hadrian_ wavered a little as engine 1 shut down on its own accord, a safety feature that was very quickly adopted by the Alliance Navy after they discovered just what an engine overheating could do to a glorified armoured tin can in space.

 _'_ _Safety feature or not, now is not the time!'_

Joker readied himself as the distance between 'his' ship and the Leech Dreadnought's engines dwindled. With a few seconds to go he shouted over his shoulder to the rest of the crew in the CIC "Brace yourselves! Its about to get rough!"

The Destroyer shifted its gravitational signature, fired all the propulsion systems it had on its belly, Joker even thought about letting go of an escape pod or two but let go of that rogue thought in an instant as the ship groaned and creaked, but successfully accomplished a near 90 degree turn away from the engines of the dreadnought. The guided missiles, lacking in powerful propulsion systems beyone the ones providing forward motion, weren't so lucky. They crashed head first into the Leech ship and exploded in what Jeff Moreau would still for years to come see as the most beautiful explosion he had ever seen. The Dreadnought was effectively crippled.

"Bloody well done Joker!" Anderson said as he righted himself in his seat. "If I have any say in things I'll be making sure Command names that maneuver after you."

The feeling of elation, and nausea, however was short lived as the three remaining engines on the _Hadrian_ spluttered and the emergency shut down kicked in until they cooled down to acceptable levels once more.

"Engineering! See if you cant get into a subroutine or something! We need to get as far away from this dreadnought ass possible!" David Anderson shouted as everyone in the CIC got right back to work. "We're sitting ducks out here-"

Anything else the Captain of the _Hadrian_ would have said was lost in his throat as he saw a lance of pure white light strike out from an Alliance Ship, Admiral Hackett's ship, piercing the Mind Leech Dreadnought's shields, hull, hell it tore right through whatever was inside it and pushed its way out the other side. The shot from the Admiral's Advanced Battleship's laser array must have hit something important as, seconds later the dreadnought burst at all its invisible seams like a cheap suit at Christmas dinner and flame, atmosphere and crew were blasted into space.

"Christ…" Was all David could say as what was left of the dreadnought began to spread into a huge expanding cloud of 'fuck you' throughout the battlefield.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I apologise for just how long it took for this chapter to come out, I could blame it on writer's block, University or my new job but truth be told I got lazy and a tad disheartened by other author's Fanfiction writing quality compared to mine. Chapter 4 is here however and it reveals couple of things I have been working my way up to. With that out of the way, I wholeheartedly hope you enjoy and that I haven't ruined anything Mass effect-esque in the process.

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Chapter 4

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 _~" {Citadel NewsNet logo spins into the screen, fades in to a single Asari sitting at a news desk}_

 _'_ _Welcome to Citadel NewsNet. I'm Alenya W'Sani. Hospitals across the Citadel Wards are reporting some minor increases in survival rates among Turian and Asari patients afflicted with the so-called 'Blabbermouth Disease', however rates remain unchanged for other Citadel member species. This increase in survival rates during the early stages has been credited to quick and radical thinking by Dr. Mordin Solus, a Salarian doctor previously interviewed on this show. For unknown reasons, however, we have not been able to speak to Dr. Solus or his close colleague Nurse Zaera Vakarian, whom not even family members have heard from. Many are speculating the genius pair already credited with saving countless lives together before the recent crisis may have joined the countless other victims affected by the disease._

 _Stay tuned to your holo screens to find out more as we bring all the breaking news to you from the Citadel._

 _This has been a news announcement sponsored by Tupari,_

 _I'm Alenya W'Sani, Citadel News Net, signing off for the mid-cycle news hour."_

 _{A pause, a change of camera angles and a shuffle of noise later the news switches to a commercial break}"~_

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\- Citadel Space, Citadel Docking bay E-224 -

Dr. Mordin Solus walked at a brisk pace toward the security checkpoint, stopping only to remove his Omni-tool and place it in a tray on a conveyor belt and stepped through the holographic mesh spanning the doorway, his Omni-tool soon followed through its own little holographic mesh. He stood patiently waiting for the all clear that came moments later via a chime and a 'friendly' blue light, picked up the device and went once more on his way to the correct docking bay. He didn't know the ship's name, it was left out just in case there were tech savvy hackers among the media and they needed this to go as quickly and as smoothly as possible, meaning no publicity and absolutely avoid any media persons at all cost, they would lap this all up like starved Varren. Mordin did not mind, he was not one to seek the centre stage when avoidable or unneccesary.

Rounding a corner the Salarian doctor came upon a three Turian security team. A visibly battle-scarred Turian, sporting a cybernetic left arm and shoulder, and a cybernetic left eye.

 _'_ _Salarian cybernetics tech. High end quality. Very expensive.'_ Mordin analysed the Turian standing a little ahead of the other two. _'Head of the security team? Likely. Attention fully on me, part of mystery ship's crew into uncharted Quadrant. Extensive cybernetics not commonly found among simple soldiers. Only one known of this age. Public swearing in ceremony of new Spectres.'_

Reaching a respectable communication distance to the Turian trio Mordin stopped in a non-aggressive stance he had learnt in his Special Task Group days. Besides Turian specific stances he had also learnt stances to take when conversing, confronting or simply passing by Quarians, Krogan, Asari, Volus, Batarians, Elcor, truthfully he had been very thorough, even by STG standards, in learning social interactions with species other than Salarians.

The three Turians relaxed their stances subconsciously, and the lead Turian stepped forward raising his balled clawed fist to his chest in the traditional Turian greeting.

"Dr. Mordin Solus? Forgive us for the secrecy surrounding this mission, it was-"

"Vital? Yes, yes. No offense was taken. Spectre Saren Arterius, am I correct?" Seeing the look of surprise on the newly sworn in Spectre Mordin continued. "Thought so. Impressive cybernetics works gave it away. Understand if sensitive topic. Would like to familiarise myself with ship and crew. The mission awaits."

"They warned me you were a fast thinker." Saren did the Turian equivalent of a smile as his respect for the middle aged Salarian before him rose. "No wonder you were their first choice even among current STG members. Now if you will, we should proceed to our ship. The laboratory was recently installed and I can imagine you will want to familiarise yourself with the tech before we arrive."

"Agreed. Appreciate taking the time for introductions." Mordin nodded toward the Turian Spectre as they continued together into the Docking Bay. "The expedition ship and crew will be given protection?"

Although it was phrased as a question, Saren was clever enough to see it as the statement of a fact. "Yes, of course." The Turian security team and the Salarian rounded a final corner and came face to face with the ship they would be on for the foreseeable future, the 'HSCV _Deliverance_ '. "We will be accompanied by two state of the art frigates, the _HSCV Executor_ , and the _HSCV Unity's Might_ , both supplied by the Turian Hierarchy to take part in the mission and to supply aid and defense on the ground and in space."

Mordin nodded to himself as he took in the exterior of the _HSCV_ (Hierarchy Space Combat Vessel) _Deliverance_. The ship, unlike the _Executor_ and the _Unity's Might_ , was not new. Although she may have had a recent paint job and some updated hardware installed for the mission, a quick check on his Omni-tool showed that the _Deliverance_ had at the least 50 years of anti-piracy operations behind her, and one attempted boarding from an ageing senile Krogan Warlord left over from the Krogan Rebellions. All this being said, Mordin knew that the ship would serve its purpose well. How he knew, he was not sure, but he knew it all the same.

"Dr. Solus," Saren interrupted the Salarian's musings. "We should get under way. All gear and crew have been accounted for and the _Executor_ and the _Unity's Might_ have sent word that they will join us and form the expeditionary fleet at the Widow nebula's Mass Relay-"

"- from whereon we will travel to Relay 314, the closest relay to the Uncharted Quadrant (yes?) and proceed with the long distance planned FTL jump to the estimated position of the sister Mass Relay." Mordin looked at the Turian cyborg. "The elevator rides supplied me with ample time to read the Mission brief and to fill in the gaps wisely left absent."

"As long as I live," The Turian began, "I will never get used to the way a Salarian's mind works. Come, we will have to look after the storage of your personal items and sleeping quarters."

With all crew aboard, the _HSCV Deliverance_ completed the final undocking procedures and the ship slowly pulled away from Docking Bay E-224 and soon thereafter joined the two other frigates at the Widow Mass Relay before jumping away on their journey into the Uncharted vastness believed to be the origin of the disease causing so much chaos in civilised space.

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\- 3 Relay Jumps, 1 long distance jump later, Uncharted Quadrant -

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Mordin Solus' eyes opened with a start. For a moment he looked around the room expecting Zaera and a stick to be the culprit of his rude awakening, but soon reality came back to him with a rush of hormones stimulating his body into a more awake state. Mordin looked around his surroundings more carefully and realized he had been woken by a beeping coming from his discarded data pad. Rising from his uncomfortable bed (the standard for any all purpose bed on a space craft) and scanned over the offending data pad.

 _-Dr. Solus. Please come to bridge comm station. May find enlightening.-_

Placing the pad in an internal pocket in his coat Mordin spared no time in making his way to the bow of the _Deliverance_ curious, nervous even perhaps as to what was in store for him when he arrived.

Deep in thought the sound of the automated door to the bridge folding in on itself and receding into the walls brought the Salarian scientist out of his ponderings, allowing him enough conscious control to steer over to the left of the bridge set up and to observe the fidgety Salarian at the comms console.

"Dr Solus! Good you came so quickly!" The Salarian comms specialist called out. He was hunched over the holographic display on his console, having only momentarily looked up to acknowledge the doctor before turning his attention back to the display as its static seemed to slowly clear up.

 _"_ _~[static]~_ _have fallen or ~[static]~ fall into the grip of the Gestap ~[static]~ paratus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail."_

"Interesting." Mordin positioned himself beside the specialist, Maelon was his name if he remembered correctly. "How long have we been receiving?"

"Not long. I noticed this frequency to be heavily trafficked by static," Maelon fiddled with some settings as he spoke. "I called for you the moment I began hearing voices – ah, here we go…"

 _"~[static]~ We shall go on to the end. We shall fight ~[static]~ shall fight on the seas and ~[static]~"_

"Oh come on!" Maelon exclaimed in exhasperation. "This half-brained spawn of an oxygen poor pool keeps losing the signal!"

"And yet you have outdone yourself, Maelon." Mordin congratulated him as the room was filled with the buzz of static. "How did you manage to translate it? I find it highly unlikely that they were speaking any of the known languages or the 'Citadel standard' some try to teach us."

"That's the thing, Doctor Solus," Maelon scratched one of his horns, "Out of a hunch and experimentation I mixed some recordings of the patients suffering from that Blabbermouth disease with samples of Asari, Turian, Krogan, Salarian and whatnot and, well, old Asari script from the Thessalian valley on Thessia got a successful hit."

Any congratulory response Mordin may have had in mind of saying was lost as the display squawked and then spilled forth more static and words.

 _" ~[static]~ ver the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and ~[static]~ e shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."_

"Whomever it is we just listened to spoke well." Mordin commented as the speech went silent. "Hopefully not first contact package, sounds much too militaristic for my liking."

"No-no-no, radio frequency awfully inefficient for long distance communication. Much of that static likely background interference, space between the 'stretched out' radio frequencies as they travel through space. Hypothesis is this is merely the remnant of a broadcast of sorts."

"Fascinating." Mordin stood up proper, straightening his back and looked about the HSCV _Delivernace_ 's bridge at the Turian and Asari crew piloting the expedition. "Please do record more if we intercept any additional broadcasts, may prove useful in understanding species."

"You might hear more sooner than later Dr. Solus." Maelon piped up, drawing Mordin's attention once again. "Going from the increased strength in the radio frequency the chatter was picked up on I believe we may be nearing the source of the disease, or this civilization at the least."

"Have you informed the Captain of this?"

"Of course Dr." Maelon made an almost inaudible scoffing noise, "The Captain and Spectre Aterius concur on the plausibility of this hypothesis and we have been using the curvature of the radio waves on this frequency to guide us in a general direction, much like a planetary polar dial in the sea faring days."

"You are a credit to the crew Maelon." Mordin said as he and Maelon's sensitive horns picked up the tapped-step of two Turians walking towards the bridge at a brisk pace.

Mordin's horns were proven correct as the door folded open and the ship's Captain and Spectre Aterius entered the bridge proper, making their way to the command console. Mordin, curious and inquisitive as a Salarian newborn, followed behind the pair after thanking the comms specialist for bringing the radio chatter to his attention.

"-should be nearing the dual hub of relay's 314 and 312." Mordin walked into ear/hornshot of the conversation.

Saren Aterius continued the conversation, noticing Mordin's presence. "Yes, and once we have activated 314 -Good morning Dr. Solus- dropped a comm buoy and make contact with the Citadel, we should be good for the last extended jump to the receiver relay for 312, and hopefully the source."

"Eager to get to work myself, Captain, Spectre," Mordin chimed in, "have no desire to be dead weight so to speak aboard the ship for longer than necessary."

"Neither would I, even with my Spectre training I can feel out of my dep-" Saren started before one of the pilots, the Asari on the right of the bridge cut him off.

"Engines entering exit protocols!" The bridge, mere moments ago a quiet corner of the _Deliverance_ , became a flurry of organized chaos.

"Engines confirmed beginning controlled spooldown!"

"Exiting Faster Than Light stream in…"

"3…"

"2…"

"1… Entering real time space!"

"Confirmed successful long distance jump!" The navigation specialist called out. "We are beside repay 314's receiver. _Executor_ , and _Unity's Might_ confirm successful jump on their ends also."

"Drop a comm buoy and bring up the _Executor_ 's channel." Saren stepped forward taking centre stage of the bridge, the ship's Captain moving to the side to make room for his superior. Mere seconds later the image of a Turian with blue colony markings appeared on a holo display.

"Spectre Aterius, the _Executor_ confirms a successful long distance jump. Our scans are picking up the comm buoy." The Turian on the screen looked to her left for a mere moment before focusing ahead again. "New orders sir? We are picking up your transmission of data."

"Confirmed. I am transferring a Spectre class data key to your bridge." Saren nodded, "When the download is complete near the dormant receiver relay and broadcast the numbers on frequency 55.919 on an open comm."

"It is an honour Spectre." The Turian captain closed the channel and went about her assigned task.

Back aboard the _Deliverance_ the LADAR specialist paused her readout, took a breath and scanned her holo screen again to be sure. "Spectre Aterius, Captain Fedorian, Sirs…"

"Specialist, what is it?"

"Relay 312 appears to be active already, but additionally I'm picking up some odd readings from celestial body B-3." The Asari specialist continued. "B-3 should have been a garden-world, but the readings of Eezo are off the charts in its orbit, or crust, but the initial pings identify it as nearly hollow…"

The screens in the bridge all flickered momentarily as the receiver Relay for 314 powered up for the first time in at least 50,000 years.

"A glitch in the LADAR coding perhaps?" Captain Fedorian moved to her side.

"Negative, Sir. No errors found in the coding or local backup drives. I-" The Asari looked up in a panic. "Eezo signatures moving! Confirm Eezo powered spacecraft swarming from celestial body B-3 in general course towards Relay 314!"

"Action Stations!" Captain Fedorian called out. "Prepare a First contact package and a distress beacon. We've just been caught with our plates bared, let's not let any surprises pry them off!"

"Comms specialist!" Saren joined in on the noise of orders being fired through the bridge. "Order the _Executor_ and the _Unity's Might_ to take loose formation at a distance of 50,000 kilometres from the Relay, defensive orders! Only fire if fired upon."

"LADAR has visual of scout vessels of the coming swarm," The Asari parroted the readings on her screen, "We have a match! They're… by the Goddess! RACHNI! Code Gamma 7! We have confirmed Rachni swarm on intercept from celectial body B-3 and Relay 312!"

"In the name of-" Saren paused to breathe, thing, something. "Activate the distress beacon, send the code Gamma 7 warning through the comm buoy. We need the Citadel fleet to even have a chance of containing a swarm of this size."

\- Controlled System Alliance Space, Martian Battlefield -

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The Martian battlefield on the ground was a red, dusty haze only broken up for Commander John Shepard by the ruins of the Industrial district, the bodies of civilians and soldiers 'slaved' to the Mind Leeches at some point in the conflict, the carcasses of the devil be damned Mind Leeches and, of course, the streaks of blue of the remaining leeches struggling to survive and the angry lines of red that were the incendiary rounds burning the invaders to a crisp for their efforts. It all seemed like a dream to John. Sounds were muffled even more so than normal through his audio receptors as the Commander ordered his subordinates in a professional and almost robotic manner. On his order Shepard saw tongues of fire from a flame thrower armed trooper lick at a pack of Leeches that they had caught unawares in the ruins of what had once been a modest restaurant. The skittering broke through to the commander as he saw a Mind Leech charge and lunge at him from an alleyway to his right. With trained efficiency John drew his Gladius in an upward arc, activating the blade moments before it made contact with the offending overgrown arachnid, its burst acid sack creating a mesmerizing spray of green burning fluids. More skittering announced the arrival of additional Mind Leeches.

"Contact left!" John shouted as he worked his right arm, he had definitely pulled something. _'Bloody brilliant.'_

"I count nine of the bastards." Lieutenant Zaeed Massani, the soldier sporting the flamethrower moved to Shepard's side turning to point the muzzle of his second favourite weapon towards the oncoming Leeches, the other soldiers nearby soon joined them.

Igniting the pilot light at the nozzle of his flamethrower Massani rotated his shoulders and hefted his weapon a little higher. "Come on yah nasty critters! Come get a taste of Jessie 2!"

"Jessie 2, Massani?" Shepard spared a glance to the lieutenant beside him.

"I've never been good at naming things, Commander." Came an honest reply, "Jessie is the best damn gun in the solar system, and this flamer, well she's a beauty of her own. Deserves the name."

Shepards reply was lost to him as his gun beeped signaling that the Leeches before them were in range. He, and the other soldiers with him let loose, quickly cutting through a third of the charging overgrown chitin armoured spider bug things. Two more fells quickly to concentrated fire as acid sacks ruptured and drops of acid flew in all directions. The remaining four stood no chance as they neared Zaeed Massani's Jessie 2 and tasted the stream of concentrated fire, bubling and boiling as the ran forward, only to expire a metre away from the flamethrower trooper at best.

"HA! Can't handle a bit of Jessie 2 can you!" Massani boasted as he kicked a loose chitin plate that had skidded into his sphere of influence.

"Good shooting troops," Commander Shepard called out a he straightened up. "Lets get our round done and dusted for the day."

"Shepard! Commander." Zaeed called out as John Shepard ejected his heat sink and prepared to move out.

"Lieutenant Massani?"

"Shepard, I wanted to say I'm sorry for your loss." As soon as those words had been spoken John visibly stiffened, any emotion fell from his face and his attention fell fully on the Lieutenant before him.

Noting that he wasn't going to say anything, Zaeed scratched at the old acid burn scar on his face, exhaled and grimaced. "I to an extent know what you're going through… I knew Ashley well. Well enough for an excuse of a father that was never around to begin with…"

"You're, Ash's…"

"Father? Yes." Massani sighed, their loop through the industrial district nearly complete, he, the commander and the troops with them began their walk back to the hastily set up forward base. "Though I hardly have the right to call myself that."

"She doesn't- didn't carry your last name," John pondered, "other wise I might have made the connection, I'm sorry Massani…"

"Yeah well, hell, I wasn't expecting her to. Buggered off when I found out her Mother was pregnant didn't I." A moment of silence was his only reply.

"I was going to try and make things right, you know, between her, her mother and me. Maybe even try and see if we could do this whole family thing" He snorted, the image of him doing family things seemed so foreign to him. "Those plans fell through though when those Leeches showed up. Pressed every retiree soldier back into duty, grabbed all those of age and taught them to shoot... my girl shouldn't have had to be a soldier like me…"

"Christ." John wasn't sure what to say. "Massani, I don't exactly know what to say to you… but I do know one thing, Ash definitely took after you; she was bloody good with a gun and loved her incendiary rounds almost a bit too much, and tied to good wherever she went, even if she knew she couldn't help."

"Heh. That's my girl." Zaeed made a suspiciously loud coughing noise and ran his nose. "Say, Shepard. Once this is all over. I have a bloody nice bottle of Port back home. Probably aged pretty damn well by now."

"I'll take you up on that offer Massani." John smiled, it was a small smile but it was the first one in what felt like years. "Though first we need to get off this red rock of a planet."

"Heh, leave that to me." Massani let out a throaty bark of a laugh, startling one of the soldiers walking with them. "And it's Zaeed to you. Anyone who's good enough for my daughter is good enough for me."

A shout of 'Commander' in the distance filled the void where Shepard was going to respond as a form neared them in the distance.

"Commander Shepard, Sir!" Jenkins came running from the forward base where he had been manning the hastily set up comm station.

"Jenkins? You have news from the fleet?" Shepard slowed down his walk, Zaeed mirroring his actions, himself not wanting to miss out on a chance to hear news, be it good or bad, from the source.

"Its Admiral Hackett…" Jenkins momentarily paused to grab at his side where a burn from a Mind Leech's acid was still fresh. "he's reporting a full retreat of all Leech vessels through that FTL slingshot of theirs."

"Bloody hell." Zaeed couldn't help but crack a lopsided smile. "I knew we'd bloodied their nose above Mars but I wasn't expecting a system wide retreat."

"Right." Shepard felt… uneasy. He wasn't sure why but this recent news on their dreaded enemy did not seem right. "I don't like putting all my eggs in the one basket, and I sure as hell don't trust those chitin plated monsters to not sneak out of the system to regroup… Jenkins, get the higher ups on the line. Tell them to dig in, fortify, see how many of the tunnel systems below the cities are still navigable."

"Aye, aye Sir!"

With Jenkins running back to his station and Zaeed's victory party plans of booze, booze and perhaps women (if he could find any) momentarily put on hold he looked to the Commander. "Shepard? What are you thinking?"

"That if the Leeches return they'll take great offence with us still being on this rock and bomb us from orbit."

"Explains the tunnels." Massani nodded in understanding. "Well lets get to it! We're going to throw the best damned welcome back party for those bugs that they've ever had the pleasure of walking into!"


	5. Chapter 5

GASP! A chapter? Out at a reasonable time after the last one? I must clearly be unwell :P. I kid of course, glad to have read your reviews on the last chapter and hope nobody was too upset that I had the Rachni turn Shanxi into a 'hive world' so to speak. My reasoning was that they wouldn't pass up on an opportunity to strip mine a resource rich planet close to a conflict front with a species they were at war with that hadn't left their own solar system. In other news in this chapter I wanted to flesh out the Vakarian bloodline a little and return to the Citadel to see how things are going there. In addition the long awaited first contact wont be too much of a wait away. All things out of the way now, enjoy!

Chapter 5

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 _~" {Citadel NewsNet logo spins into the screen, fades in to a single Asari sitting at a news desk}_

 _'_ _I- We're on air now? -Welcome to Citadel NewsNet. I'm Alenya W'Sani. Moments ago a distress beacon's transmission has been received by the Citadel, from comm buoys leading towards the closest Mass Relay to the Uncharted Quadrant._

 _The transmission, for unknown reasons, was quickly intercepted my a STG comm specialist vessel and is now transmitting on an encrypted frequency. We currently have no knowledge of the nature of the transmission but amateur frequency surfers have claimed the frequency to be a security alert to the Citadel Defense Fleet itself. To back up these claims spacecraft enthusiasts have noted a Nebula wide mobilization of the fleet charged with the protection of the Citadel Council, destination or purpose is unknown. We will bring you more news as it comes in._

 _This has been a news –_

 _Scratch that last note. We just received a joint message from the Citadel Council and the heads of C-Sec. The Widow Nebula, all space immediately in the vicinity of the Citadel, Relay 314 and the Relay hub of the Citadel are, effective immediately, in lock down. Citadel based civilians await orders from your local C-Sec division. A Code Gamma 7 alert has been issued. The Rachni have resurfaced. I repeat; A Code Gamma 7 alert has been issued. The Rachni have resurfaced. The Goddess preserves._

 _{The view of the Citadel News Network desk switches abruptly to the emergency channel frequency with a rolling live update of orders from C-Sec}"~_

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\- Citadel Space, Citadel emergency cryogenics medical wing –

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Flavus Vakarian was furious. Not one to mince his words when family was on the line he had marched straight to the information desk of the hastily set up cryo medical wing, his son and daughter in tow, demanding to see his wife. Making a scene was not a Vakarian thing to do but he hadn't seen his wife since the disease crisis had started.

"Look. _Miss_." Flavus pushed his words out between his mandibles, adding a hiss to his flanged voice. The sound was easily recognized as a territorial warning that could be associated with any predator galaxy wide.

"That is my WIFE in there! By all of your own accounts you claim that this seems to aid them in their chances to survive the stages of disease and it has been WEEKS since she has been in the cryo tube. We are her immediate family. We are worried for her and I would like to give my children," Flavus paused to put emphasis on the two Turian younglings peeking out with stares strong enough to melt steel beams. "the chance to at least see their mother before she joins the ancestors."

The young Asari before him, barely 200 years old, sighed as she began to buckle under the pressure from the three Turians.

"Mr. Vakarian. I may be able to let you in, but there is a matter I would like to speak to you about, without other ears listening." The Asari receptionist quickly glanced down to where the two younglings were still clinging to their father's legs before returning her gaze to the elder Vakarian.

"Very well. Garrus, Solana. Find a place to sit." Flavus crouched before his two children. "I will be right back after I talk to the lady."

A pair of stiff nods and a scratch of the chitin ridges slowly developing on his children's heads later Flavus stood up once more and followed the Asari away from the hustle and bustle of the welcoming hall.

"Mr. Vakarian, the reason we turn so many back is due to a seeming side effect of the later stages of the disease." Her body sagged a little, body language screaming 'exhaustion' on every frequency visible.

Flavus stopped himself for a second, tried his best to soften his voice and made a mental effort not to 'hiss' any further at the crumbling woman before him. "Side effects, Miss? What do you mean?"

"Bloating of the abdomen, fracturing of the bone, even seemingly bone realignment in some aspects." The woman sighed.

"But that is not all?" Flavus was at a loss, yet he had to know.

"She, in some aspects is showing some 'Asaroid' form, curves seemingly suggesting mammary glands- which is of course impossible as none of the Turian ancestors had such genetics in their evolutionary traits -whatever, but it appears that there are filaments of protein protruding from her cranial region." She looked toward the Turian before her. "I'm afraid it may even be hard for you to recognize her. If she survives or not I do not know. I apologise for this Mr. Vakarian, she is our most advanced patient of a disease we are only now slowly working out how to make it all even a little bit less lethal."

Flavus Vakarian stood ramrod straight, looking out of the window the two stood beside. "Thank you, you have been honest with me. Now as my duty as a father I must be honest with my children. I beg you please let my children and I see her for one moment, it will help any grieving that may follow."

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\- A few minutes of donning air tight gear and waiting later -

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Flavus rolled his shoulder, shimmying a little in the half a size too big Turian model airtight Hazmat suit. His two younglings almost looked comical in their 'youth' models of the suits. Almost. The reason the three of them were here, Zaera, was like a grayscale filter sucking the colour out of what could have in any other situation been a moment right for ribbing the two little Turians.

"Children? Are you prepared?"

"Yes, father." Garrus and Solana spoke in unison, Garrus looking over his sister's suit one last time in the same manner he had observed Flavus do on numerous past occasions.

"You understand what we might see when we enter that room, don't you children?"

"Yes, Father. We want to see mother, even if… if it is scary. We should be there for her." This time it was only Garrus who spoke, though it was evident Solana silently put her support behind him. "She always was for us."

"The two of you…" Flavus crouched down to the two young Turian's eye height. "Only 7 and 5 years old and already grown so much. Your mother would be proud."

The Asari from before returned to the Vakarian family, herself donned in the Asari model Hazmat suit. Flavus looked up from his children as he heard the woman's steps and stood to his full height, chest puffed out and talons placed on Garrus' and Solana's shoulders.

"Now come, children. Let us go see your mother."

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Relay 314 orbit -

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"Captain! Main Mass Accelerator reloading system error detected! Automatic Weapon Lockdown initiated!" A Salarian, the gunnery specialist of the HSCV _Deliverance_ called out in a rapid-fire manner.

"Shut the gun down!" Captain Fedorian shouted back, his eyes never leaving the reinforced window that was the front wall of the bridge. "Get the tech crew active! Ground the cannon with the insulation coil, do whatever you must to get it going again, even if you have to fire and load manually!"

As one of countless before fired shots from the swarm of Rachni vessels before him scored another glancing hit along the left stabilizer wing, Fedorian pushed himself off the console before him in an act of defiance. "I will not let you foul creatures of the night take us down so easily!"

"Captain! _Executor_ reports critical drive failure. She's being auto piloted into the swarm by her captain! Crew are abandoning ship in escape pods." Maelon called out to Fedorian. "LADAR detects boarding shards inbound!"

"That's your cue Saren." Fedorian took his eyes off the battle, no the slaughter, to look to his fellow Turian. "Keep them at bay for as long as you can. They must not be allowed to escape the system before the fleet arrives."

"You can count on me Captain," Saren walked a few steps before turning around, "for what it's worth, my ancestors would be proud if this is to be our last moment."

In the distance the _Executor_ exploded in a cloud of Eezo enhanced blue, swallowing Rachni ships and a few of the boarding shards in the deadly explosion.

"Trajectory mapped! Boarding shards will impact at deck 3, Engineering, in T- minus 20 seconds." Maelon reached for the intercom holo button. "All hands, prepare for boarders. Security detail to deck 3, Engineering, immediately. I repeat. All hands, prepare for boarders…"

Saren tuned out Maelon as he grabbed two of the guards on the bridge in his path to the elevator. "You two! You heard him, all hands, that includes you two fresh-plates. With me!"

As the three Turians raced the last few metres to the elevator door the _Deliverance_ shook, an unnatural groan reverberating through the ship's superstructure as it flexed with the impact of what Saren assumed were the Rachni versions of boarding pods.

"Spirits… The records never spoke of Rachni boarding during the great war."

"No time to talk and gawk Marine!" They had reached the elevator, which was thankfully still on its tracks and keyed the console for Deck 3. "When we reach engineering, no matter how many there are, we Do NOT back down. You hear me?!"

"Yes Spectre, sir!" The two bridge guards spoke in unison.

"Good! Looks like you might not be as fresh-plated as I thought."

A Turian equivalent of a dry laugh escaped Saren's mandibles as the doors opened to a chaos of shots, shouts and the howling of Rachni. "Now lets share in some of that glory our ancestors gained!"

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\- Citadel Space, Citadel emergency cryogenics medical wing –

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"Mother?"

Garrus edged forward a little, slipping out underneath his father's talon on his shoulder.

" _No-mercy. No-Surrender. No-mercy. N-no Surrender…_ "

"Nurse, is she conscious?" Flavus had gained his ability to speak again, but had not torn his eyes from the airtight cryogenics pod before them, his wife's muttering audible through the glass.

"Miss Vakarian is in a deep set induced coma," the Asari replied as she checked a display beside the pod. "She has been in here ever since Dr. Solus left."

"Her, her face…" Solana Vakarian piped up, having sidled up to the cryo pod to look inside. "What happened to her face?"

Flavus and Garrus joined Solana to look clearer through the frost on the glass, stiffening at what they saw.

Zaera Vakarian's once beautiful, by Turian standards, face had warped and distorted. The plates beneath her eyes had dislodged and fallen off leaving behind angular cheeks not too dissimilar of an Asari's. Her mandibles had visibly softened to a sort of cartilage, altering her mouth to only have an opening at the front, where there were swellings around the opening. Flavus noticed the bulges from her chest, like the nurse had said.

Zaera shifted, twitched more than anything in her deep sleep, and a strand of dark strands of… something… fell over her shoulder, her chitin ridge around her neck (present on every Turian ever born) was intact and unchanged, but the dark strands shocked Flavus out of his silence.

He looked to the nurse reading over reports a respectable distance away. "Nurse, what is this? It protrudes from beneath her head fringe and the back of her head… she has changed so much."

"Those strands protruding from her head, we do not know why they happened, but they occurred shortly after majority of the hemorrhaging in her body resided, the mammary gland-like protrusions on her chest occurred much the same time." The nurse paused, trying to tread carefully in her explanations. "Her DNA, in tests we have taken along the way seems to show some changes, universal in her whole body. Her talons seem to have shrunk to more Asaroid-like digits, stages of which we are slowly seeing among other Turian victims also."

"Nurse… I must know, is my wife still in there?" Flavus waved his arm loosely at his wife in the cryo tube. "Is her mind still intact?"

"I cannot tell you that, we haven't even brought her out of her induced coma or attempted to slowly wake her. No form communication has been attempted."

"But when can she be brought back, when will you try to wake her?" Flavus probed, it distressed him to see his wife in her state. Even if she had physically changed he wanted to help her.

"I cannot give you any exact dates, Mr Vakarian. Im sorry, but-"

A high pitched beeping interrupted the conversation and startled Garrus and Solana as they backed away from the cryo pod, unsure if they had done something or would be in trouble.

"Nurse?!"

"She's waking up! Stage 4 coma depth and rising." The nurse hit a panic button at the side of the cryo pod alerting other medical specialists to come to her aid. Stage 3, brainwaves are off the chart, at odds with Turian brain activity. Stage 2… I need a Doctor in here!"

"Mother?" Garrus steeled himself and edged forward a little. "Zaera? Mum?"

A spasm in Zaera's right arm put a stop to his cautious advance and got Flavus to put a hand around him to stop Garrus from moving any closer.

" _Zaera…Vakarian, I.. Ash..._ "

Garrus jumped back as Zaera sat up with a start and a groan of pain. Her eyes shot open in what felt like an age. She looked around the room frantically, unusual yet familiar forms before her.

' _Zaera, Ashley… who- what, what is happening to me?'_

Garrus watched as Zaera attempted to move her arms, evidently causing pain and strain to flare up and a gasp to slip past her, her lips?

Memories flooded her mind, memories of a warzone, a rugged soldier, memories of a hospital, of a close friend. More and more flooded her mind creating the largest headache she remembered ever experiencing.

She looked down at her hands, talons, the digits looked so strange, her entire body was foreign yet had elements that seemed familiar to her. Ignoring the panicked voices directed at her she looked at the closest creature.

"What… am… I?"

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Relay 314 system -

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Saren fired at the nearest charging Rachni warrior, his Phaeston rifle bucking as the stream of projectiles cut into the creature thought extinct for over a thousand years. A pop and sizzle announced the bursting of the Rachni's acid sack and allowed Saren and the two bridge guards shadowing him to move on from the T-junction they were at.

"You two," Saren waved at the nervous Turians with him. "take the right corridor. Make your way to the reactor maintenance hatch and do not let any Rachni, worker or warrior, through. We need to keep this ship operational."

"Sir! We wont let you down."

Saren adjusted his grip on his rifle and continued down the left corridor towards where he estimated the boarding shards to have impacted.

"This is Spectre Arterius, moving toward bow boarding site, have encountered minimal resistance." Saren fired at a skittering sound to his right on instinct and was awarded with the wailing of a Rachni worker succumbing to the dozen bullet wounds lacing it's body. "Physical confirmation of Rachni on the _Deliverance_. Not that that was in any doubt."

"Understood Spectre Arterius. It seems we have quarantined the boarders in Deck 3, no other sightings aboard the ship have been made." Captain Fedorian's voice came over the comm device in Saren's helmet.

" _Update: Word has been received from the Citadel. Citadel Defense Fleet is inbound to assist in quarantine and eradication of Rachni in system. The flagship HSCV_ Palaven's Light _is leading the force. Reinforcements inbound, ETA 30 minutes and counting._ " The voice of Captain Fedorian echoed through the _Deliverance_ as spoke through the ship wide comm channel.

" _Palaven's Light_?" Saren mused to himself as he dispatched another two Rachni workers that had tried to jump from the piping above him. "Desolas, my brother. Couldn't stay away from this opportunity could you?"

Proceeding along the corridor toward the bow of the _Deliverance_ Saren encountered a pair of biotic Rachni warriors tearing into a Turian marine who had been quickly overcome. Ducking behind the ridge of an emergency door Saren prepared his rifle, aiming at the Rachni closest to him. It was oblivious to the Spectre lining up a shot at it's back as it watched the other Rachni continue to savage the dead Turian.

Focusing down the scope Saren made a curious, yet not unexpected discovery. "Spectre to bridge. Rachni appear to have evolved since last known contact. My Heads up reads a 70% match to the Rachni warriors present during the Rachni war. Nothing we cant handle but be advised, doctrine may need to change."

Hearing Saren's transmission inside his helmet somehow, the two chitin-plated nightmare machines perked up and turned toward him, letting out a wail as they streamlined themselves and charged the Spectre, throwing biotic fields haphazardly in his general direction.

Using the distance between them, Saren focused fire on the closest warrior, cutting through the leg joins with a well-aimed burst of fire, incapacitating one and slowing the other. The extra time allowed Saren to drop the Phaeston rifle and draw his Spectre requisition shotgun, loading a high explosive mod to the ammunition and aimed, just in time to see the remaining Rachni lunge for his face, and be rewarded instead with a shotgun shoved down his throat with the force of the impact.

Thrown back by the Rachni tackle Saren reached out with his biotics for his shotgun and triggered the firing mechanism causing a spectacular shower of gore to replace the creature's elongated neck. High explosive rounds were, after all, intended to get through/ shed heavy armour and still be able to cause damage to the enemy combatant, and was serious overkill when fired at unarmoured flesh.

Getting up from underneath the Rachni corpse Saren wiped the blood and ribbons of flesh off his visor and proceeded to retrieve his favourite shotgun. Distracted by the retrieval of his weapon Saren didn't see the crawling legless Rachni warrior until it dove its sharp teeth into his leg in a last ditch effort to take him out of this world to join his ancestors in the after life.

Screaming in pain, Saren fell to the ground and lashed out with his Omni-blade, slicing across the face of the warrior and began to slowly remove the teeth still lodged in his leg, the urge to pass out ever present with each nauseating tug.

"This is… Arterius. Rachni boarders dealt with at the bow… need a medic fast."

"Affirmative. I read you Spectre Arterius. Dr. Solus is inbound to your location." Captain Fedorian then paused as the _Deliverance_ received a transmission.

~" _This is General Desolas Arterius, of the HSCV_ Palaven's Light _, to the crews of the HSCV_ Deliverance, _and_ Unity's Might _. Clear the immediate area around Relay 314, we will be arriving shortly at an angle of 15 degrees. Desolas out._ "~

True to the General's word countless little clouds of particles 'popped' into existence as more and more ships of the Citadel Defense Fleet entered the system, quickly reorienting themselves and accelerating towards the oncoming Rachni swarm. The colour/light show of flashes of lights from the barrels of the fleet's weapons heralded a halt in the advance of the Rachni ships as more and more folded in on themselves, the near useless shields incapable of stopping the Citadel rounds fired with extreme prejudice.

Aboard the bridge of the HSCV _Palaven's Light_ Desolas Arterius walked up to his station in the midst of all the working crew to look out at the enemy fleet quickly drawing back from the damaged _Deliverance_ and _Unity's Might_. They had saved them for now.

"Always cleaning up after you brother… what have you gotten yourself into?" Desolas then turned to his bridge crew, determined to put an end to the resurgent Rachni once and for all. "Send a fleet wide message, Engage Rachni swarm fleet with extreme prejudice, form a crescent formation and push them back to the orbit of that hive planet. We need to cut them off from Relay 312."

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Sol, Charon Mass Relay -

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With the withdrawal of all Mind Leech spaceships from System Alliance controlled space came a lot more breathing room for Humanity's fleets and troops, and with that space came a plan to stop any future incursions into the system by the Leech ships.

Original plans were to target the FTL device that was placed in the ruins of Charon, Pluto's formerly tidally locked moon, but was quickly abandoned when scans showed that, were it destroyed, the reactor in the device had the possibility of wiping out at least half the system and bathe what was not destroyed in high levels of radiation. Instead it was decided to have two thirds of the System Alliance fleet pulled back from orbital bombardment positions across the system to patrol space near the alien device to be able to form a defensive line were the Mind Leeches to return to complete their campaign of extermination.

For now, though, it all was quiet on the new front of the battle for survival. A feeling and sensation Admiral Hackett did not like one bit. He wanted to be at the thick of it, partake in the bombardments of Leech forces on Pluto, Enceladus, Europa, anywhere but be in command of the largest idle fleet to be seen by humanity. He knew of course that, if the Leeches were to return with a fleet to Sol, that he needed to be here being the most experienced leader and strategist of the fleet, and therefore resigned himself to his fate. He adjusted his posture on his thoroughly uncomfortable command chair, trying to relieve his leg which had had the gall to fall asleep on him. The crew on the bridge of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ was in much the same situation lazily going about their tasks, as there was no rush to do anything (except for the occasional bit of maintenance here and there). The Journalist from 'Battlespace' had thankfully been unceremoniously dropped off on mars and couldn't bother him or his crew any further with what he would call the most ridiculous questions he had ever heard.

 _'_ _Honestly, who wants to hear about whether the war has brought an increase in breakups on the ship?!'_ Hackett thought to himself with a barely muffled snort. _'Or better yet! Whether I have any plans of becoming Emperor of mankin-'_

"Admiral!" the comms specialist of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ sat ramrod straight in his chair in alarm. "The FTL device near Pluto appears to be powering up!"

"Christ! Those Leeches do not mess around!" Hackett strode quickly to his station on the bridge of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_. "Comms specialist, call up the fleet! Assemble the armada in a perimeter around the device. And alert the armed forces to go into combat readiness."

"Aye, sir! Relaying orders at once."

"This time, this time we'll be ready for them." Steven Hackett adjusted his headgear lowering an eyepiece with live footage of the _Kilimanjaro_ 's forward facing camera, pointed at the FTL device.

Half closing his left eye Hackett focused on the small screen of the eyepiece as the gyroscope of sorts continued to speed up and pulsated with a lightshow that made him feel ten kinds of uneasy all at once.

He was rewarded for his attention and near perfect vision by being one of the first on the ship to spot the tell tale 'pop' of particles and light reflection as the first of many Mind Leech ships jumped into the Sol system. The ships, after comms specialists across the immediate fleet also took note jumped into full readiness, flicking switches to arm ordinances and to lock the chambered rounds in place, giving the all clear for the targeting computers to find firing trajectories to intercept the growing cloud of alien ships pouring from the huge alien device.

"Admiral, Sir! Scans show damage to many of the Leech craft."

"Of course there is damage! Where have you been all this war specialist?"

"No, sir. I mean the damage they have does not match known human weaponry…" He paused as he scanned his findings on his screen again. "Radiological readings, impact cratering on the hulls, it suggests different caliber weapons to our fleet wide armament. I don't know what to make of this, sir."

"For now we don't have to make anything from it." Hackett allowed for a moment for the shaking of the ship as the battery of turrets on his Armoured Battleship firing their payloads to subside before continuing. "We have to hold this line and keep the enemy quarantined to the immediate orbit of the FTL device."

Not too long after the return of the Mind Leech ships the entirety of the human armada had formed a crescent formation encompassing the space immediately on their side of the alien FTL device, shooting down any Leech ship that jumped in as fast as they could manage.

For a while this worked well, too well almost, adding to Hackett's already bad vibe from the skirmish occurring. Before long his bad vibes were confirmed as the FTL device lit up, more so than before and spewed out hundreds of Mind Leech ships into the void of space, quickly equaling the number of ships in the System Alliance armada.

"SHIT! Admiral! More ships are entering the system! We are being outnumbered!"

"I see it, I see it!" Steven Hackett was struggling to see how he would get his ship and crew, no his entire armada of Alliance ships out of this situation.

"We just lost the SSV _Hastings_!"

They were running out of time, fast and Hackett was scanning all the camera feeds, all the footage looking for a weak spot in the Mind Leech fleet/swarm.

"Confirm escape _Hastings_ pods pinged leaving the battlefield-"

"- SSV _Melbourne_ , _York_ , and _Utopia_ confirmed destroyed! All hands lost."

Hackett continued to frantically scan the feeds on his eye piece, before finally falling upon the camera facing the FTL device the Leeches had placed in the ruins of Pluto's moon. He was out of options, and knew he would condemn countless lives to die, but the survival of his species was at stake. When the device began to spool up once more and spit out a number of weird angular alien craft his decision was made.

"Comms specialist. Open a line to all vessels in the Armada, and send an alert to all colonies and Earth to enact bombardment protocols." Hackett slumped in his chair, preparing himself for what he was about to order. "To all captains in the System Alliance armada, break off firing solutions on enemy craft and target the alien FTL device… and then prepare to jump out of the system. May God have mercy on our souls."

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\- Same time, Sol system-

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"General Desolas, Sir! Successful jump through the relay, we are in pursuit of the…"

"Specialist? Speak."

"Unknown fleet is combatting the Rachni swarm. Sensors confirm, unknown craft are not of known citadel species make."

"Spirits! They've been battling the Rachni all this time?" Desolas thought quickly on his feet as he watched a talonful of the alien ships explode as their reactors were breached and the Eezo go into overdrive, annihilating those that were inside. "Signal the rest of the fleet! We need to enter the system and assist in the extermination of the Rachni."

"Aye, Sir! Dropping comm buoy. Message sent. Reinforcements ETA 30 seconds and counting."

"No one should have to face the Rachni alone."

Soon after, the Mass Relay lit up, signaling the transit and soon arrival of the Citadel fleet in system. The arrival of the first fifty Citadel ships also heralded a suspicious decrease of Rachni ships being destroyed and a reorientation of the alien spaceships.

"General!" The LADAR operator of the HSCV _Palaven's Light_ called out in alarm as he received the scans of the battlefield before them. "The alien craft have broken off the conflict and are firing on the Mass Relay itself!"

"Are they insane?! Hail them! They'll kill us all."

"Hailing!"

The holo screen before General Desolas Aterius showed static before clearing up to show the bridge of one of the alien craft. What shocked the Turian General into momentary silence were the Asaroid creatures running about in an organized chaos on screen. Oddly enough that all stopped when they realized there was an alien on screen that wasn't a Mind Leech. Desolas was a little creeped out by the pinkish fur topped Asari species before him but the thought of system wide annihilation quickly brought him back to reality.

"Rachni ships seem to have short circuited with one of the radiation bursts!"

"Is the translation software from the _Deliverance_ running?" He whispered to his comms specialist before getting a nod and raising his voice in what hopefully did not sound like a panicked youngling. "Attention Alien fleet! Cease firing on the Mass Relay! If its reactor overloads it will destroy the entire system!"

"Sir, they have created a breach in the outer layers of the Mass Relay, it is beginning to vent high levels of radiation! If they do not stop soon the reactor will overload and take us all with it!"

~" _G-neral Desolas. I am Admiral Steven Hackett of the System Alliance. I don't know who the hell you ar- ut we will hold off, complete destruction was not our intent. I'm afraid the damage we have made to it may have already been too much. Our species cannot survive this level of radiation._ "~

"Admiral Hackett, I advise immediate evacuation of all your ships and colonists on in-system colonies. Withdraw to your next system for safety. We will escape the system with you and, on behalf of the Citadel Council provide aid." Desolas was already preparing a message to be sent back to the Citadel of his findings when this Admiral Hackett gave him a reply.

~" _We can't do that General. This IS our home, and only system. We have billions of souls here and not enough ships or a location to which we can move them. I have ordered all civilian populations to go underground to survive the worst of the radiation to come… I may have signed the death warrant for my species._ "~

"Not if I or the Council have anything to say about it. Admiral, I will forward co-ordinates outside of this system for a safe FTL jump, proceed there with your fleet and any civilians you can save… then perhaps from there we can organize a rescue operation for this system's population."

~" _As Admiral and head of the System Alliance fleet, I accept. Thank you General._ "~

With that the communication line was cut and the bridge was plunged into, albeit short, silence. The fizzling of a computer shorting out with a new burst of radiation from the Mass Relay on the HSCV _Palaven's Light_ 's bridge brought everyone out of their musings immediately.

"Send word to the rest of the fleet. Withdraw to the emergency jump point uploaded into the flight navigation computers." Desolas wiped some perspiration off the chitin plates on his forehead, the radiation beginning to give him a sick feeling in his stomachs. "Prepare to lay a trail of comm buoys, we need a line to the Citadel. When you get through to the Council call for hospital ships… I fear we have all already been exposed to more radiation than we should have been."


	6. Chapter 6

Knock Knock, its Europe. Just kidding, it's me again with a new chapter! (much longer than the usual chapter by my standard too) x) I realise how slow I am with my updates, for this I have no excuse. I hope you will forgive me all the same.

On the plus side! An update and a new chapter means a new chapter to read! Things are heating up plot wise and I'm nearing the point where I've set the stage for the story proper (hopefully its improving with each chapter). As always I'm always looking for helpful reviews and comments from you guys to improve my writing or suggestions of what to put in the story that I might weave into the plot.

I have some words in other languages in this chapter and the one coming. If I use the wrong ones/the wrong forms of the words please feel free to correct me. This chapter will have a lot of story centred around the survivors on the surface of Mars and a little bit about the space based survivors. Without much further ado, I present chapter 6 and all the upheavals that ensue within it.

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Chapter 6

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Safe distance from Sol Mass Relay, SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , Captains quarters -

Admiral Steven Hackett prepared himself. He donned his dress uniform, ensured that his medals were properly polished, his hair somewhat under control. Looking into the little mirror that he had he deemed himself presentable enough for official first contact with this General Desolas Arterius and his Citadel Council, the fleet bombardment of the FTL- Mass Relay device and the venting of dangerous levels of radiation into Sol still heavy on his heart.

A sigh accompanying his last efforts to straighten up his uniform he walked to the door to his sleeping quarters, keying the button to command the door to open. He only made it a step outside his quarters before two fully armed marines, looking none too happy, stopped him.

"Privates? What is the meaning of this?"

"Sir under orders of the remaining Captains of the System Alliance fleet we are placing you under house arrest." The taller of the two adjusted his grip on his avenger rifle as he inched forwards. "Please go back into your quarters until you are summoned."

"What? You have no authority! On what charges am I being held?" To say Steven Hackett was confused would be an understatement.

"The decision was made on the authority of the known remaining chain of command of humanity. Your orders may have made us the remnants of humanity."

"What are the charges?" Hackett demanded. He knew he had made a tough call back in Sol, to fire on the Mass Relay in hope that it would shut down or be damaged enough to no longer function, permanently closing the gateway into Alliance space, but THIS, he had not expected.

"Crimes against humanity, the damage of a Mass Relay potentially risking the destruction of Sol in its entirety, for failure of command, the endangerment and near extinction of humanity and the damages to Citadel craft and crew." The shorter of the two spoke up this time in a heavy eastern European accent. "I still had family on Earth, _Sir_ , and thanks to you they are likely dead."

Hackett, unsure of what was happening and resigned to the fact that he would not leave his room anytime soon, nodded. They spoke the truth, after all. "Who will initiate first contact in my stead?"

"Captain David Anderson, formerly of the SSV _Hastings_. The Captains of the fleet chose him to succeed you and initiate contact in your place."

"Good choice. Good tactician." Steven Hackett unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his collar, and with a simple 'If you would excuse me' turned and entered his quarters once more. Closing the door he let his jacket drop to the floor his cap soon followed and planted himself on his bed.

"Shit."

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Safe distance from Sol Mass Relay, SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , 2 Decks lower -

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Captain David Anderson felt slightly out of place walking down the halls of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ , his mentor's former, and now to be his flagship for the fleet. That was of course if he succeeded in making a good 'first' contact and negotiation for supplies, repairs and, the gods (old, new, or alien) willing, a new place for humanity to settle down on and rebuild and grow. The knowledge that they may be the last humans alive did not help at all either.

Accompanying him to the hangar of the _Kilimanjaro_ were two other captains, Captain Kahoku of the SSV _Berlin_ , and Captain Ivanenkov of the SSV _Moscow_. The three of them made up the captains of the remaining Advanced Battleships, the largest ships in the System Alliance fleet and were the selected heads of humanity by the 'Council of Captains' as they were calling themselves in absence of the command structure back on Earth. Both Kahoku and Ivanenkov wore their dress uniforms, well maintained and 'clean as a fiddle' while Anderson, having lost all of his possessions with the downing of the _Hastings_ wore his combat uniform, a compact jacket with ceramic-Kevlar stitching woven into it, compact fibre trousers and his reinforced boots. He had some gloves to go with it but opted to keep them in his pocket.

The battle uniform was designed to link up with any universal oxygen mask and head gear should the ship's hull be breached and the oxygen vented into space. It wasn't really designed with comfort in mind, or to be seen beside the dress uniform, but David was not going to meet the Citadel Council representatives wearing a uniform that didn't fit him, he'd sooner welcome a Mind Leech to a romantic restaurant in one of the old districts on Earth for a date than do that.

"PRESENT ARMS!" The quick step from the 20 odd soldiers forming a corridor leading to the lone transport shocked David Anderson out of his musings and half hearted dinner plans with a leech. He hadn't even noticed walking through the sealed bulkhead that lead into the hangar.

Looking ahead with more focus David saw Admiral Nero standing beside the transport's open hatch.

"Captains."

"Admiral." The three captains spoke in uniform, saluting the superior officer before them.

"At ease. I hope you understand the gravity of the situation you three are walking into."

"We do, Sir." David spoke out, "We wont disappoint you, Sir."

"Excellent. We are all counting on you, Captains." Admiral Nero stepped aside and beckoned to the open transport. "The General of the … Citadel Fleet, have signalled for us that they are ready to receive our representatives. There is an updated data packet on the transport. Read it carefully, and God speed."

"The human species is estimated to have dropped to what, a population of 60,000 souls (?) spread across what's left of our fleets and he has the guts to remind us what is at stake if these talks to anything other than peachy." Captain Kahoku spoke with a snort.

"Heh, well at least it can't get much worse, right?" David sat back in his chair

"Don't say that! Never say that!" Kahoku shouted as though to fend off fate's inevitable turn for the worst.

"Christ that is a lot of pages" Captain Ivanenkov, a hand running over his receding hairline, said after looking at the data packet summary.

"Definitely spoke too soon…" David Anderson shifted in his seat as the shuttle's artificial gravity kicked in, momentarily conflicting with the gravity field of the SSV _Kilimanjaro_ 's hangar. "Do I even want to know how many there are?"

"So many that even our Neural implants might not scan through them fast enough before we arrive at their flagship."

"Even if I recently upgraded last year?" Captain Kahoku asked, a deliberately overblown hopeful tone woven in as he spoke. "I'd rather not have an itchy part of my scalp for nothing…"

Evidently working, going by the snort that came from Captain Ivanenkov, Kahoku let a genuine smile show. He hated tense situations, he had gone as far as avoiding the promotions he could in the past to stay as far away from high ranking positions and the tense, life changing decisions that came with them. Now though it seemed that fate had finally caught up with him, with the Council of Captains selecting him as one of the three representatives to the Aliens of the Citadel Council alongside his two colleagues sitting beside him.

"Knowing our luck Kahoku… probably not going to help all that much." David chimed in with a chuckle-snort hybrid after he had once more found a comfortable posture to sit in on his seat.

"It was worth a shot." Kahoku sighed. "Well, might as well get this headache over and done with."

Agreeing to their comrade's silent signal, Ivanenkov and Anderson mimicked Kahoku in uploading the data packet to their personal wrist mounted computers, flicked a switch and entered their 'neural codes' (really a glorified password that consisted both of brainwave frequencies and Arabic numerical symbols that connected the computer to the brain via what essentially was very secure Wi-Fi).

After a mental command their minds, aided by their Neural Implants and computers skimmed through the hundreds of pages of the data packet at speeds impossible to do manually. The migraine that accompanied the use of the Neural Implant followed moments after the link was initiated, but was, for the three captains who were long accustomed to the neural links and its side effects, of no hindrance. For now anyway that was, if they planned to keep this up for a few hours they would be needing a lot of painkillers.

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Mars, Tharsis base, moments prior to System Alliance fleet withdrawal from Sol -

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"Massani!"

The entirety of Tharsis base was a buzz. Armed and unarmed personnel were running around like ants on a disturbed ant hill as orders were dished out left, right, and centre reflecting his orders to prepare the base and any civilian populations they could contact for a potential orbital bombardment.

"Zaeed!"

Shepard, though, had a bad feeling about how one of the people he held in high regard, however recent that mental decision was made, was standing frozen near a long distance communications station.

"Shit, Shepard." Zaeed Massani turned to his commander. "You already heard this shit?"

"Heard what?"

Zaeed said nothing in response but turned up the volume on the comms station, drawing Shepard's attention as well as passing base staff.

/ _~ "-Code black is in effect. I repeat. This is the SSV_ Washington _broadcasting on all emergency frequencies on behalf of Admiral Steven Hackett. The alien FTL device has ruptured. Dangerous levels of radiation are spilling into Sol. Admiral Hackett has ordered all deep space worthy vessels to abandon Sol for coordinates embedded in this broadcast. This is a looped transmission. Code black is in effect. I repeat. This is the SSV_ Washington _broadcasting on all em-genc-…. Behal- Steven Hackett-" ~_ /

Without warning the frequency was filled with static. Looking up toward the general direction of where the alien device was on the horizon Shepard swore he could see a bright spot join the stars in the evening sky.

"C-commander?" A private stammered as he fumbled the stack of data pads in his arms, dropping a few but attempting to keep his attention on his commander before him. "Code black? What does he mean?"

"Code black is reserved for extinction level events." Shepard tore his gaze from the horizon. "First and only time, until now, it was used for was when we first met the leeches in the asteroid belt mines."

"But what do we do?!" The Private, clearly in distress gave up trying to balance the data pads and let more drop to the red Martian soil. "This base doesn't have any deep space worthy spacecraft! How do we get out?"

"We don't. We can't get out of here. We're on our own, for now." Shepard stayed silent for a moment more before turning to the small crowd of soldiers and personnel that had gathered around him. "But what we can do is do our damn best to make sure we survive for long enough to be rescued. Move as many as we can into the underground systems. The Sewage ways, the Metro systems, the bunkers, ANYTHING that is underground, the deeper the better. Humanity has never gone down without a fight and we're not going to stop now! Now get going! Pass it to every base, every city you can get in contact with!"

Shepard's confident façade was infectious as the crowd dispersed to pass on the message, gather provisions, and usher civilians and the injured towards the bunker entrances.

"You think it'll work, Shepard?" Zaeed stepped up beside the commander, watching the organized chaos. "Sticking our heads in the dirt?"

"Hell if I know." John sighed. "All I know is, if it doesn't… then we won't be having to dig any graves, that's for sure."

"You really have to work on that optimism, Shepard." Zaeed's throaty chuckle/cough rang out through the noise of machinery, digging specified and not, being moved alongside the panicked people, personnel and food supplies into the bunker systems below the military base.

"I'll work on it if you keep up your end of the bargain." Shepard smirked. "I still expect that drink after this shit storm's over. Even if it's turned to vinegar or dust."

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Safe distance from Sol Mass Relay, HSCV _Palaven's Light_ -

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"Are they there yet?" Desolas Arterius paced the bridge of the HSCV _Palaven's Light_ , the flagship of the Citadel Fleet reinforcements. He didn't like waiting, especially with the resurgent Rachni still at large, the remnants of the Rachni swarm fleet having jumped into dark space in the confusion of the Mass Relay protective case rupturing.

"We received word from their flagship not 20 standard minutes ago, General." A seaman handed him a data pad - he hadn't yet had time to learn his name – displaying the updated tracking information of the lone shuttle flying towards the Dreadnought from the Human armada of both military, cargo, and civilian ships. "We estimate an additional 10 standard minute wait calculated from their current speed and trajectory."

He nodded a quick thankyou to the crewmember and synced the data pad's information with his Omni-tool and continued to read the data spilling forth. The shape, the engine output and its shield strength the passive scans could read, though their cyber warfare VIs still couldn't create a backdoor into the ship's computers, or the three odd active signals emanating from the ship's hold. Desolas put it down to difference in computer coding, a young race couldn't have better cyber warfare tech than the over a thousand year old Citadel centred civilisation.

Desolas made a mental note to speak to Dr. Mordin Solus about the intercepted communications, which had been decided to be much older than the current iteration of humans before him; they could be a useful insight into the mentality of these humans.

"General Arterius, Sir!" A deck hand drew his attention to the internal comms station where he was posted.

"Ensign, what is it?" Desolas hoped this had a good reason behind it; with the human representatives on the way he wanted as little distraction as possible.

"General, Sir." The Ensign, a Salarian with a steady voice for a quick spoken species, continued. "The remaining exploration vessel, the HSCV _Deliverance_ , has docked and her crew are aboard. Many are showing signs of radiation sickness. Your brother, Specter Arterius is among the wounded of a Rachni boarding incident, in stable condition. We have Rachni anti-venom vials at hand."

"Good. Send them to the medical level, they deserve the rest." Desolas nodded, looking back out the bridge windows. "Was that all?"

"One more thing, Sir. A Dr. Solus would like to speak to you."

"Ah, excellent." Not waiting long for a response he continued to the door. "Where shall I find him?"

"He is on his way to you now." The Ensign paused, looking at the holo screen before him. "Actually, he is right outside, Sir. Security wont let him through."

"My thanks, Ensign." Desolas walked towards the airlock entrance to the bridge, signalling the guard to unlock the door.

The door opened to two guards and a slightly exasperated Salarian.

".- you do not allow me through, may be sorely tempted to shock you into persuasion." The Salarian spoke readying his Omni-Tool. "Have offensive program installed, if willing to try it out?"

"Look here, Doctor." One of the guards said, though both stepped back to a safe distance from the clearly mad Salarian. "Don't try anything or we will be forced to arrest you."

"Would like to see you try. Familiar with my background? Former STG employee."

"I-"

"That will be quite enough." Desolas interjected before the Salarian could make a laughing stock of them. "I have been expecting you, Dr. Solus. If you would care to join me?"

"Of course," Mordin Solus fell into step beside the General. "Have some matters to discuss."

"As do I. I would like to thank you first and foremost for deciphering the alien language without Asari aid."

"Ah yes. Interesting experience. Human language similar to that of old Asari tongue of the Thessalian valley people." Mordin paused for a moment. "Not my work however, a colleague, Maelon, has claim to this achievement."

"Truly? Would you give my regards to him?"

"Of course, once he wakes up." Noticing the querying look from Desolas he quickly explained. "Maelon was in a thinly hulled section of the _Deliverance_ when we entered Relay 312 system and received a higher dosage of radiation. Put him in an induced coma to lessen the stress on his system."

"Ah. Well thought of, Doctor. We have a number of similar occurrences across the fleet."

"Thank you, now I must speak to you still. Important matter, even among all this."

"Something more important than first contact with a species a knife's edge away from extinction?"

"Yes, well, maybe." Mordin ran a hand over the stump that was once his second horn on his head. "Have been in contact with Hospitals and medical wards on the Citadel, family friend became ill with the disease outbreak. Haven't heard from her, but the cases of Blabbermouth infection spread, no peaked in correlation to the Mass Relay incident."

"What are you getting at Dr. Solus?"

"I believe that the disease outbreak and this species, these humans, are somehow linked." Mordin shrugged. "Perhaps they are a new psychic species, more powerful even perhaps than the low level psychic powers the Asari have."

"I see." This was definitely a surprising hypothesis for Desolas. "I take it you want to scan, take samples of someone among the species?"

"Yes. Could hold answers to a cure, save millions of lives."

"Very well. I promise to ask, but they may not agree."

"Thank you. Even samples from a deceased member of their species would be beneficial, to an extent."

"I can't promise anything, Doctor. All I can do is ask."

Not 10 minutes later Desolas Arterius found himself standing in the main Hangar bay of the HSCV _Palaven's light_ , watching as the human made transport breached the shimmering barrier, bringing with it the roaring noise of the boosters correcting its flight and slowing it to a stand still before lowering to the deck with a clank.

"Here goes nothing."

Desolas walked forward, signalling for his guard escort to stay behind. If his translator were to mistranslate anything he said next it could cause a number of issues but he gave it little thought.

The head of the Citadel relief fleet only stopped when the ramp began to lower itself with the hiss of hydraulics, three humans standing perfectly still at the top.

"I am General Desolas Arterius." He introduced himself. Pointing to himself with a taloned hand. "I am in command of the HSCV _Palaven's light_ , the dreadnought and flagship of this fleet as elected by the Citadel Council, the ruling body of majority of this Galaxy."

Desolas paused for a moment as he once again scrutinized he three men before him. "Forgive me for asking, but I was expecting to speak to Admiral Hackett. I spoke to him not long before we jumped out of the system."

"Ah, yes. That." The short furred male in the minute ran his Asari looking hand over his head, a look that, were it on an Asari would suggest emotional discomfort. "Steven Hackett has been relieved of his post. We have been elected by the Council of Captains, our ruling body in the absence of the chain of command to represent Humanity… or what's left of it."

"I would like to know more as to why the Admiral was deposed, but I will wait until a later time."

"Agreed." The balding male to the right spoke out, while the full furred male to his left merely nodded. "In his absence introductions are in order."

The balding male pointed to himself. "I am Captain Ivanenkov, the man beside me is Captain Anderson, and the man to his right is Captain Kahoku. We have been elected by the Council of Captains to represent Humanity and to reveal details we see fit and to, to an extent, make decisions on behalf of the fleet."

"I welcome you Captains Ivanenkov, Anderson and Kahoku. If you would follow me, a room has been prepared for this meeting."

The meeting went ahead smoothly, Desolas was relieved to hear that Humanity seemed as much concerned with the damaging of the (now identified as a) Mass Relay, and that a planned trial was being constructed aboard the largest civilian vessel they had once everything was in order. As the meeting went on, Desolas was brought to a stop when he heard of Humanity's dabbling in AI research. This would not do.

"Captains. I must stress how dangerous a field AI research is!" His voice flanged into the higher octaves of the male Turian range as he brought his hands up. "I Must ask you to stop, it is illegal for good reasons in Citadel space."

Captain Ivanenkov visibly bristled. "And why on earth-" Desolas had heard that phrase a number of times now used liberally by the three humans. "- would we even think of stopping our research? It has only benefitted us. It is safe."

"I have to agree with Ivanenkov." Kahoku agreed, Anderson's nodding adding to the unity in their response. "We see no reason for your alarm."

"My alarm and cause for this bid is sound and with reason." Desolas sank into his chair. Talking about the Quarians was always going to be hard and he had hoped to bring up the Migrant fleet and its citizens after the meeting, but no plan survives first contact. "300 standard years ago, a Citadel species, the Quarian race, built and maintained the most advanced AI the galaxy had ever seen."

"I sense a but?" Captain Kahoku interjected.

"But whether it was a software malfunction, a virus or the galaxy's cruel idea of a joke, the AI - the Geth, all few millions of them became self aware, sentient to an extent, and rose up against the organics. They nearly drove the Quarians to extinction."

"I see. But they remain to this day?" Kahoku deflated a little, scratching subconsciously at the scar where his Neural link had been inserted.

"Yes, a shell of their former glory, but they are still alive."

"It sounds as though we should make every effort to link up with the Migrant fleet." David Anderson suggested. "It sounds as though we could learn much from them."

"I would advise against that." Desolas said a little more coldly than he had intended. "They are a shell of their past. More like a moving port of pirates, beggars and thieves. They would strip mine your ships the second they were given the chance." _I can't let them join, the Quarians have enough sympathy that if seen beside the plight of the humans they might actually gain the aid of the Council they have been asking for, and then you can kiss the economy, peace, everything we built up, goodbye._

"I… see." David Anderson sat back in his chair. This response he had not expected. "It would also seem prudent to inform you that a majority of the survivors, and all of the military personnel are equipped with a Neural link, a computer connected to our brains."

"You actually fused a computer to your brains?" Desolas was himself once again surprised. "You do realise the dangers even the surgery entail."

To that Ivanenkov could only scoff. "Please, General. We all know that. We've practiced this for years and have had no negative effects. Besides they are a passive device, system locked with waves and passwords only the individual can input. As safe as we can make them to any form of hacking attempt."

"I see. I am not sure how much my superiors will like these devices, but I see I cannot force change in this area."

"Agreed." Captain Ivanenkov nodded with conviction.

"I can, however, promise that the Citadel will do it's best to aid humanity in finding a new home, though there is a final issue I must address."

"This being?" Anderson slightly squinted his eyes, measuring the Turian General's movements.

"The whole reason we discovered your species was to discover the source of a form of disease."

"A disease? How does this link to us?" Kahoku interrupted.

"We are not sure. One of our top scientists has come up with a promising hypothesis, putting your conflict, the Mass Relay rupture, and the sudden rise in disease cases being reported together, that humanity, through psychic ability or other means has been _possessing_ or transferring itself over to civilians in our space."

"What?" Ivanenkov, in his surprise allowed his strong accent to come through, momentarily confusing Desolas' translator.

"I agree with my colleague." David said. "What are you on about?"

"We are not blaming your species for this." He tried to alleviate their concern. "We think, somehow, your species has found a way, perhaps due to the fusing of those computers to the brain and perhaps a psychic ability to cheat death."

"So what? We die and inhabit your peoples? Like a leech sucking blood?"

"I do not know what a leech is but I believe your example is correct." The General steeled himself. "In case the hypothesis is correct, though, we will have to ask for a genetic sample, and keep you in quarantine away from any of our planets or stations until we can work out a cure, or how to stop the 'leeching' effect."

"What keep us on our ships to die?!" Ivanenkov stood up abruptly, his chair tipping back and falling to the floor.

"No, only for the time being!" Desolas tried to placate the towering man, whilst waving off the guard who had come in with a stun baton. "With additional food supplies and the like to repair the damaged vessels until the cure is finished and the disease a non issue."

"And what about a new planet?" Kahoku asked cautiously as Anderson picked up the discarded chair and convinced Ivanenkov to sit back down.

"Yes, yes, that too."

"I think we can wait a little while for you to uphold your end of the bargain." Kahoku looked to Anderson and Ivanenkov before locking eyes with the Turian general again. "We will uphold ours. If you send a transport across to our flagship we will supply you with some of our radio frequency keys used and some genetic material, as well as an additional first contact package to be packed to the one we brought with us."

"Excellent. Now If I may, I would like to introduce you to the Citadel Council, Citadel space and all the species that are a part of the Citadel charta. I have, here, prepared a codex of all freely available data…" With that, Desolas activated his Omni-tool, eliciting a bit of a jump from the three humans, but other than that nothing more as their attention was drawn to the holo screens before them, depicting the Codex as written by the Citadel Council, translated for human consumption.

And so it was that humanity was introduced to the greater galaxy through an equivalent of space Wikipedia and found itself quarantined for the time being of all civilised docks and planets.

Within the bowls of the HSCV _Palaven's light_ , Mordin Solus prepared himself, alongside the medical teams of the flagship, to begin working on a cure, or even just a stop to the disease still tearing families apart back in Citadel space.

His thoughts naturally ran to his close friend, Zaera Vakarian as he hoped that she was still alright, and not beyond saving.

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Bordering space with Citadel space, System Alliance fleet, 6 months after first contact with the Citadel -

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The remnants of the Human species known to the Citadel were stranded in deep space. They now called a fleet of a thousand odd ships that varied from military vessels, cargo haulers to civilian transports home and formed the second great fleet of the homeless known to the Citadel species, the first being the Quarian Migrant fleet, the second now the Human fleet, dubbed by the general mass of Citadel citizens on the extranet as the System Alliance ' _hermit fleet_ '.

Even though the promises of the Citadel council were a plenty to find a new planet for the humans to settle down, 6 months after first contact the Humans were still homeless, the ships not designed for extended periods of space without repairs in dry docks were beginning to fall apart and encounter system wide errors, taking lives by the handful. Many of the ships weren't even sound enough to survive re-entry if they were given a planet by the Citadel species. Without aid or a new planet to set down on, humanity would soon die in the depths of space.

All the while, the Council of Captains, the ruling body of the hermit fleet consisting of each military vessel captain, squabbled over the remaining parts, lives and supplies, desperately trying to prolong the lives of the ships and crew, and sacrificing the ships too badly damaged to be scrapped and stripped for parts.

"We don't need another bloody cargo hauler!" The voice of a bald grumpy captain carried through the large room.

"We can't just scrap it! 400 people live on there." Another spoke out in protest. "We need all the space we can get!"

"All the space we can get?" The same balding captain retorted. "We don't even have enough food for us all. Just take the parts from the ship we need and let them rot! Half of them are sick from radiation anyway, who knows how many of them will survive for much longer."

"How can you even suggest that!" A new voice called out from among the sea of heads. "How can we even be sure that you're even human? You could be one of those Leech controlled fucking zombies for all we know!"

"I'm not a bloody puppet for those overgrown spiders! I'm just trying to do what is best for the species! For the greater good!"

"For the greater good? You'll doom us all just so that you can be the last to breathe the stale air."

"I am trying to keep us alive long enough for us to find a new planet!"

"The Citadel Council is trying to help us! They are looking for a planet right now!"

"Are they? Are they really?" The balding captain called out to the entire congregation of his equals, having stood on his chair to better project his voice. "Or are they keeping us here, isolated and caged like a sick dog! We are quarantined like some diseases! They're afraid of us."

A murmur swept across the room, clearly the captain had struck a cord.

"…But if that's the case, what do we do? We'll die out here."

"I am Captain Ivanenkov." The balding captain needlessly introduced himself. "I was, at first, like you. I thought the Citadel Council had our best interests in mind, but these last few months have shown me the truth."

He pointed to the large burn on his face. "This burn I received when the reactor of the SSV _Moscow_ overloaded, claiming 130 lives. It was us, HUMANS, who rescued the survivors, even when we called for aid and parts. It was US who slaved among the wreckage of lost ships so that we could survive as long as we have now." Pausing for emphasis he looked around the room to a sympathetic crowd. "No, we can't rely on the Council of aliens to keep us safe. We aren't seen as equals, we will never be seen as equals. We were once a mighty species! We had AI research, we had fleets, planets! And now what do we have? A thousand ships, some that almost aren't worth being called ships with the state they are in. We don't have the time or the lives to wait until the Citadel Council makes up its mind on what to do with us."

Having seen that he had the support of the Captains, Captain Ivanenkov straightened up. "I propose we, once again, take our destiny in our own hands, find our own planet with or without the Citadel Council's blessing. We. Are not. Their playthings."

Thunderous applause and cheers greeted Ivanenkov as he stepped down from his chair. Satisfied that he had set humanity on the right path, he walked out of the chamber followed soon by the others as they returned to their ships to spread the news and to draw up plans for planetary exploration.

Little did the Captains, no the entirety of the hermit fleet know; someone had noticed them, someone all too familiar with their plight. On the edge of the system the visual particle displacement of tens of thousands of ships exiting FTL travel could be seen. A fleet larger than that of any Council species had arrived seeking out this new species, whether to strip them of their parts or to bring them into their ranks was yet to be seen, the Quarian people after all, were well known to be rather unpredictable.

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\- Uncharted Quadrant, Mars, underground, Tharsis outpost, 7 months after System Alliance withdrawal from Sol -

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"Have we heard anything from the cities in the Northern hemisphere?"

"Still nothing Commander Shepard, Sir." Leroy Jenkins was huddled over the disassembled and reassembled communications station, crammed in a dugout branching off the tunnel.

"Jenkins, you know you can stop calling me that." Shepard leant his back against the hard wall of the dugout. "Not much point of Military titles and ranks when there is no form of military left here."

"Sorry… Shepard." Jenkins fiddled with some analogue dials and buttons with one hand, tapping away on a touch screen editing and filtering through the static noise pollution filling the channels they had access to. "The radiation on the surface and the flares from that damned FTL device are just overwhelming the receivers on the comms tower."

"Could we, I don't know… boost it somehow? Mess with the wiring on the panel here or something?" Shepard waved his arms towards the touch screen and nobs Jenkins was crouched over. "This lack of communication wont be any good in the long run. We need to be able to talk to the other surviving populations!"

Jenkins only sighed "Shit Shepard. There's only so much I can do from where I am here. I've already taken apart this station 3 or so times. If anything we can fiddle with it's the comms tower's hardware itself. The Tech heads have been theorising that, if upgraded for the radiation garbage on the comms channels we could break through, talk to other survivors, hell, maybe even get a signal into deep space. But…"

"But with the fuckton of radiation bathing the surface world it's dangerous as all hell for anyone that's alive and wants to stay that way?" Shepard finished for him.

"Yeah. Neither you nor I could, in good conscience tell someone, let alone the group of people it would take to take tools and gear up there to be bathed in radiation and die an agonizing death."

"No, you're right. We can't." Shepard rubbed his growing stubble. "But we can make it a volunteer mission."

"Who in their right mind would volunteer for that?!"

"Whoever will come join me." Shepard stood up from the wall, walking out of the dugout and into the tunnel proper. "I can't expect anyone else to do it if I'm not willing to go there myself."

"I... but… Fine, you're insane, Shepard." Jenkins raised his hands in defeat. "I'll give the armed portion of our mole rat colony a heads up that you're looking for 3 (?)…"

"3." Shepard confirmed with a nod.

"Right 3 volunteers to lug tech with you to the tower. Don't be disappointed if you end up having to carry everything yourself there and back."

"Oh ye of little faith." Shepard sighed before taking off down the tunnel toward the makeshift airlock that was the surface entrance.

Moments later Shepard, having entered the room before the surface entrance turned airlock's door to find a dozen men and women in combat fatigues waiting for him, shuffled his way to the front of the crowd all the while trying to think of how to try to get even one of them on board with his insane plan, let alone three.

"Alright guys!" a cough "…and girls, was using 'guys' as a collective, not suggesting anything…"

Shepard subconsciously cleared his throat, "I know that we all signed on in the military knowing full well that missions would put us in danger, but with the chain of command all but gone, humanity's survival on a knife edge and family members missing or needing care I can't with good conscience order any of you to join me."

"We still can't raise a stable channel with any of the other survivors out there, let alone hope to contact anyone on the other colonies." Slightly frustrated with the situation they were in Shepard gestured with his arms at the room they were in. "Our supplies might not be running low, but that wont always be the case."

"The thing is, with the current tech on the comms tower we have now we can't break through the interference in the atmosphere." _This is definitely not my best speech I've ever made._ "The current plan is to take some new gear the tech heads have tinkered with and to modify the actual tower itself. I myself will be going, but I'm asking for three of you to join me…"

"You're asking for us to go with you out into the irradiated hell hole that is the surface and risk exposure to levels of radiation that we wouldn't be close to surviving?"

"The tech heads have modified 4 suits of armour," Shepard continued, seeing that the majority of the people before him seemed unconvinced. "lined with lead and the helmets modified-"

"Modified how?"

"The faceplate had been completely replaced, the glass eye piece has been replaced with two circular fortified eye pieces."

John picked up one of said helmets; clearly evident were the new welding goggle looking eyepieces protruding from the faceplate, a small ridge above the faceplate had been added also. A more drastic addition to the helmet was two sets of tubing that snaked from the faceplate _(think a more mass effect styled Killzone helmet for reference)_ to a pack with tanks and fans and a set of magnetic strips.

"As you can see, the helmet has also been outfitted with a air filtration unit." Shepard helpfully pointed at the pack. "Its purpose is to allow us to seal the ground based suits of armour that don't have an air filtration system already in it. We currently only have 4 functioning prototypes, but if they work well the tech heads want to make enough for us all."

A loud clunk sounded in the room as the back door opened and shut, allowing the man to enter with all eyes trained on him.

"Heh, either a whole lot of people died and I'm now the leader of this bloody mess or I've just interrupted one of Shepard's 'great' speeches." Zaeed Massani pulled out a bottle and opened the lid in a fluid motion. "Please do continue, Shepard. Don't mind me."

"So yeah, as I was saying… with the modified armour the surface radiation and irradiated air wont be a worry to us as long as we are careful, don't compromise the suit seal, and keep a constant eye out for each other's filter packs." John sighed, he definitely was out of practice in the inspiring speech department. "Look guys, I understand this is a huge thing I'm asking of you, and under any other circumstance I wouldn't even think of risking any of your lives in this manner, but we need to -for our survival- get a stable connection to the other pockets of survivors out there!"

His speech done and dusted, Shepard stepped back from the impromptu podium he had used (some small crates really) and looked at the unsure and unsettlingly quiet crowd before him.

After a moment of awkward silence Zaeed's voice rang out like a one tonne bell in the dead of night.

"Hell, Shepard." A snort soon followed. "I could never resist a lost cause."

"Thanks for the motion of support, Massani." Shepard said in a sarcastic tone, though he inwardly was grateful he wouldn't have to undertake the venture on his own.

"If you were to, say add a little incentive to this mission of yours I'm sure my drinking buddy, Barton would be more than happy to join."

"I, ugh fine." Shepard sighed in defeat. "Barton, and one of the rest of you, you get to keep any gear, loot, whatever you find on your way back as long as its not a waste of space."

"Well then," A woman's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. "If there's loot it's not that lost a cause."

"Ah, good. That's the volunteers down pat then." John counted off in his head. "And you might be?"

"Irina Reynolds, enthusiast of all things loot, even long before we went underground."

"A pleasure to work with you Miss Reynolds."

"It will be," Irina said, walking confidently over to the pile of modified gear for the four of them. "as long as you follow through with your promise, mister."

Sensing the unspoken dismissal the crowd of able bodied men and women dispersed, returning to their tasks, be that tunnel digging or less physical intensive jobs. After a little while, when the crowd had all but dissipated, a new face entered the room. The blonde barrel build of a man who Shepard assumed was Zaeed's friend, Barton, walked over to the three, helping himself to ammunition and a weapon before he even spoke a word.

"So you're Shepard, right?" The blonde nodded to John who nodded in response.

"Yes, that's me."

Having selected the meanest looking weapon from the pile and sated his supply of ammunition he moved on to the prepared suits of armour. "And we're going up to the surface world to fix up your little radio tower to talk to more people?"

"Yes, look… I thought Zaeed Massani had filled you in on all of this." Shepard put a firm hand on Barton's shoulder as he began to go through the armour sets, stopping him.

"Yeah, nah. I don't know what Massani said to you, but I don't swing that way, Boy Scout."

"Neither do I, but I need to know you're on board with the mission before I have you go pilfering through all of the supplies."

"If there's loot to be had along the way?" A reluctant nod from Shepard was his reply. "Then I'm in."

"Good. Then lets get geared up. We have 10 hours til nightfall, and meteorologists say that with the radiation damage to the atmosphere nights have been getting a lot colder." John joined Barton in grabbing a suit of armour, beginning to disassemble it, put on the under suit and reassemble the gear on top of himself.

It took the Shepard, Zaeed and the two prospective tech and memorabilia looters around 20 minutes to gear up and count their ammunition before exiting the underground outpost for the surface world.

The door opened up from an old bunker built in the first years of the war against the Mind Leeches. Built on the edge of the Civilian district Tharsis base had been built near to protect, the sight the four of them saw before them was breathtaking, for all the wrong reasons.

"What the fuck happened to the city?" Barton breathed out a deep breath.

Before them, the entire civilian district was in ruins. High-rises had collapsed in on themselves or on others near them. Where some ominous open spaces were, craters of varying sizes were carved into the Martian earth, as though something had exploded in the midst of the buildings.

"Shit." Zaeed slumped against the wall. "I didn't think that the Leeches got to Mars before the FTL device fried everything to hell?"

"They didn't." Shepard confirmed the belief. "This, this was our weapons."

"Us?" Zaeed glared at Shepard's armoured form. "Why would we bomb ourselves?"

"We didn't." Irina butted in. "The radiation likely cooked the missile silos, the weapons stashes and all it'd take is for one to go off before all the others went up in flames."

"The fuck did you know that from?" Barton eyes Reynolds.

"What? I can know stuff."

"Uh huh." Barton was evidently unimpressed.

"Fine. Not like I can get arrested for this anymore anyway." She sighed. "I used to steal munitions and supplies from the military depots, had to know where they were and when they would be easiest to crack. Happy?"

"Yes-"

"No." Shepard was certainly not happy.

"Well, Boy Scout?" She turned her gaze towards him. Even though he could only see the illuminated eyepieces he somehow knew she had a challenging stare on her face. "What are you going to do about it? Tell the dead and gone authorities?"

"No. But I still don't like it."

"You don't have to." She turned back to the ruins before them. "Now can we get going?"

It took about 3 hours of silence, only broken by the cycling of their air filters, for the four to reach the base of the Communications tower, which was thankfully still intact and mostly structurally sound.

Each of them carried a duffel bag with wiring and varying bits of tech… and instructions from the tech heads who had been gracious enough to try and make their jobs easier for them. Barton, however, had brought along additional bags two of which he had already filled with old computer parts and copper wiring he had found on their way here.

"That's going to be a real pain getting up there isn't it?" Zaeed sighed. He was already tired from just looking at the internal stairwell they would have to climb.

"Oh yeah." Shepard nodded, consulting his heads up display with old architectural statistics pre-FTL rupture. "There were about 600 steps to the top when it was brand new."

"Fuck. You must really hate me." Irina grunted in disapproval.

"No, no. I'm just keeping you all well informed is all." Shepard flashed her a grin, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to see it through the enclosed helmet.

The much looked forward to climb was commenced with only a few chosen swear words and grunts of frustration directed at no one in particular as all silently agreed to not keep tabs on how many stairs they had climbed. Barton had had the good idea of leaving the excess bags behind at the base of the tower as not to slow down the other three, though he hadn't been happy about parting with his collection for even a minute.

20 minutes of grunted steps later Irina caved, dropping her bag unceremoniously by her side.

"Fine, fine! I'll ask what we're all thinking; are we there yet?"

"No, Irina." Shepard sighed, as they turned right in the stairwell. "We're not there yet. About 200 odd steps to go until we reach the ladder."

"Fuck me…"

"And that's probably not counting the steps that have broken through." Zaeed added in his rough voice.

"Fuck you." Irina corrected.

"Heh. In your dreams, darlin'."

"Can we get on with this?" Barton's voice called out, at the rear of the group ascending the stairs. "I have a pile of tech waiting for me downstairs."

It took another 20 minutes before they reached the roof of the tower the antenna was build on.

The view from the top of the Comms tower was beautiful, even if the view was that of a dead city.

"Shit." Zaeed leant against a weak looking set of railing. "The view almost made the climb worth it. Almost."

"Lets just get this over with." Barton placed his bag of tech at the base of the ladder and looked up at the platform 10 metres above; their ultimate goal. "Who's volunteering to go up there with all the bags?"

"I'll go. Can't be much more difficult than disassembling and reassembling my Jesse or Jesse 2.0." Zaeed hefted his bag and grabbed a cord from his suit's pocket. "I'll dangle this down for you to bring the other three bags up to me. Easier that way."

"Jesse?" Irina looked at Shepard with her head slightly cocked to the side. "Care to fill me in?"

"Jesse and Jesse 2.0 are respectively Massani's rifle and flamethrower." Shepard pointed to the weapons connected to the man's back as he climbed up. "He, uh, really likes them?"

"Of course."

"There's a storm coming." Barton pointed to the horizon. "The speed it's going it'll catch us before we are back underground."

"We'll be fine. Storms don't get very powerful here on Mars." Shepard placated the group. "A bit of dust wont hurt us."

The trip down the stair well was much quicker, what with their bags now empty and gravity working in their favour. Much to Barton's pleasure his bags of collected tech lay right where he had left them. Not that anyone was left alive. Or so it seemed anyway.

As they began their way back towards the bunker that served as the entrance to Tharsis outpost a pair of large calculating eyes watched them. A young predator just waiting to test it's mettle against something worth it's time and to gain respect from the rest of its pack. Calling out in a low howl to its brethren the creature followed the bipedal forms along a ruined street, keen to keep to the shadows until the time was right.

"Did you see that?" Barton twitched, pointing his gun at a ruined archway 10 metres to their left.

"See what?" Irina joined him looking towards the gutted building, her weapon however pointed downward. Seeing nothing bar the oncoming dust devils she relaxed her shoulders. "You going mad on us, Barton?"

"Fuck off Reynolds. You're not going to get your hands on my loot that easily." He gave the ruin another cautious glance before joining the other three again. "I still think I saw something."

"What," Shepard, who was taking it a little more seriously slowed down to walk beside the encumbered man. "Like a tunnel rat?"

"Nah, bigger."

"Tunnel rats can get pretty big, depending on their diet." Zaeed chimed in.

"They do, but this wasn't a rat." Barton nodded to himself. "I'm sure of it."

Almost as if to confirm the blonde man, a howl broke through the silence of the ruined cityscape, quickly followed by many, many more howls.

"I don't think that was a tunnel rat…" Shepard mumbled loud enough for Zaeed and the two looters for hire to hear.

As the four reached an old plaza of sorts a creature of unusual size bounded from the shadows into a ruined café. The howls came again, this time noticeably closer.

"Alright…" Zaeed swept his sights across the open area, trying to find where the… thing, went. "I think we've overstayed our welcome…"

"Agreed." Irina Reynolds reloaded her full weapons clip, a nervous tick she had had ever since she had become a mercenary. "How close are we to the damned outpost entrance?"

Shepard brought up a map on his heads up display. They were still a few kilometres away. "Too far. That pack of whatever is howling might be on us before then."

"What about any maintenance hatches?" Zaeed queried. "If it goes into the transport systems we can follow it back to Tharsis."

"Not if I want to bring all this gear with me." Barton complained, adjusting the straps on his shoulder holding up his numerous duffel bags. Seconds later, the creature returned, emerging from the ruin it had entered earlier, this time making no attempt at hiding away.

Cutting the bags loose and letting them fall to the ground, Barton adjusted his grip on his weapon. "Second thoughts… the ladder sounds good to me."

The snarling, four-legged beast before them looked like a nightmare come to life. Thick, dark and matted fur covered the top of its head, shoulders and ran the length of its back. It had two large meaty eyes, a mouth full of teeth, and the skin where it lacked fur looked rough, broken up by patches of pockmarked skin and the tell tale light grey of scar tissue.

Shepard, who was still engrossed in the map in his helmet, was oblivious to the monster before them. "There is a maintenance hatch roughly a block and a half beyond the plaza-aahhh, what the hell is that thing, guys?"

"Certainly not one of God's creatures, that's for sure." Zaeed made a spitting noise, quickly followed by a groan as he realised he'd spat inside his helmet.

The clearly mutated creature stayed its ground as Zaeed, John, Barton and Irina slowly spread themselves out.

"You think it's peaceful?" Barton asked half-heartedly and he slowly inched around… whatever it once was.

"Not, likely. It's probably biding its time while its friends catch up." Shepard, copying Barton's initiative, inched along the other side of the genetic monstrosity. Looking away from the animal for a split second, John signalled to Zaeed. "We need to get going before-"

Without warning the beast stood up on its hind legs and howled to the air. The howl ended, it landing back on all fours with a heavy thump and tensed its muscled body, spittle dripping from its frothing mouth.

"Shepard! Watch out!" Irina called out as the mutant creature charged at him.

Dodging just in time for it to crash into a ruined wall John turned to the Zaeed, Irina and Barton, each trying to get a good shot at the mutant creature.

"GO! I'll keep it busy!"

"The HELL you will Shepard!" Zaeed picked John up from the ground. "I'm not leaving you here for a martyrs death."

The howls cutting through the air and flying red dust heralded the arrival of more of the mutant creatures.

"We aren't much further from the ladder entrance." Irina looked around. "We can make it, but only if we leave now."

"Works for me." Barton chimed in; sweeping his rifle across the city ruins they were in. waving his hand lazily towards a dusty red Shepard he continued. "What's boy scout say?"

"Lets go." John groaned, rolling his shoulder.

The four ran for the hatch that led underground even as the first mutant burst forth from the ruins it had charged into.

The mutant beast, which might have once been a dog or something else four legged humanity had introduced to Mars at some point, jumped through a window into a side alley before reappearing right in front of the ruin housing the ladder they were trying to get to, at the same time the silhouettes of the rest of the mutant pack could be seen appearing in the light Martian dust storm.

The four stopped in their tracks. Seeing no other way past the beast, Shepard loaded the last few incendiary rounds into his rifle, priming a grenade as he did.

"On my signal, run to the left and right until the beast passes you, then go straight for the ladder."

"I won't let you do that Shep-" Zaeed started but was cut off.

"And this time, don't wait for me."

Without another word or giving enough time for protest John aimed his gun at the growling monstrosity and fired his flaming rounds, eliciting a roar of pain from the beast as it ran at the source of the pain it was feeling, blind to the three others running right past it.

Emptying his weapon clip he threw the gun away, lobbing two grenades in the mutant's path and dove to the side under an alcove to avoid the fiery blast that enveloped the monster.

Getting up he saw that the rest of the pack had reached them. There were 20, maybe more beginning to circle the immediate ruin area, unaware that the maintenance hatch was within their circle.

With the charred beast unmoving, Shepard got up and ran for the ruin the other three had entered, not seeing the charging beast until it rammed right into his side, sending him through the wall into the laps of Irina and Barton.

"Made it…" He whispered before falling into unconsciousness.

"Get him inside!" Zaeed threw a grenade out of the newly formed hole in the wall. "We need to get underground. NOW!"

What happened next, Shepard had no memory of. Somehow Barton, Irina and Zaeed managed to drag him along with them underground, down the ladder and into a now defunct railway track. They followed it until they reached Tharsis outpost, many hours later than planned, they were welcomes by first a wall of barrels of varying sizes, then a sea of nurses and medical aids as they were ushered in through the barricade into safety.

Two weeks passed as Shepard drifted in and out of consciousness, the face of a redheaded nurse peering over him seemingly the only constant in a sea of confusion, his memories only truly anchored around the red hair and the face that came with it. When John finally did wake up properly it was once again to the view of the redheaded nurse looking over his bandages, a determined look on her face as she didn't notice his eyes open with a surety that they hadn't seen since he had arrived. She had dark circles around her eyes and a frown that hinted at a headache that could have come from lack of sleep, but here blue eyes were as awake and full of energy as any others.

"Who are you?" Shepard asked the woman, his voice sore and his throat dry.

To the woman's defence she was only a little bit startled when the genetically attractive silent brooding looking patient blurted a string of words at her that had the luck of forming a sentence understandable by man.

"I beg your pardon?" Her eyebrow raised itself almost high enough to attempt to join forces with her hairline. _Weird man if ever I saw one._

"Huh?" Shepard, mighty a warrior and scholar among linguists, bedridden by a broken leg, rib and fractured pelvis was taken aback by the curious accent and the response to his truly gentlemanly question.

 _Stares at me day in day out and now he's gone and lost his tongue to a tunnel rat?_ The Nurse snorted " _Durák_. Normally, a man, even a patient such as yourself, drugged up and patched up with Medigel gauss pads, would begin a conversation with a woman with politeness and a slow intrusion into the silence of thought." A smirk drew across her face. "Not this, this 'blurting out'. A girl's got to get some warning."

"I- sorry," Shepard had the decency to look a little sorry, raising his arm on his good side in mock surrender. "I just didn't recognise you from one on the previous staff at the base is all. Forgiven?"

"For now." Her smirk turned to a genuine smile. "And the name is Cheri -not pronounced like the beverage- Cheri Balabanov"

"John Shepard," He gave off his best smile and held out his hand "Commander of whatever is left up on the surface at Tharsis base."

"A pleasure to meet you Mr Shepard." Cheri took the outstretched hand. "Have you always been a native to the red planet? Or just popped by for a visit?"

"Earth born actually. Came from roughly the border of Canada and Alaska." He gave out a little laugh, one that didn't strain his ribcage too much. "Figured the slightly colder climate of Mars would feel more like home."

"I hope you've been enjoying your stay?"

"Oh terribly, never a dull moment to miss home." John smiled again, though only half-heartedly; lost in thought for a moment of a home he would likely not see again. "And you Miss (?) Balabanov?"

"Miss, and I'm like you, really. Came from some little city in the Eurasian continent, had a nice big AA gun at its town centre. Surface to space capable, father was very proud. We, my mother, father and I moved to Mars together." Cheri mirrored John's half effort of a smile. "Mother was not fond of the idea. 'Too close to the front!' she would say. But I'm here now, and they are both gone… It's been quiet, well as quiet as it can get with murderous bugs around, but I like it."

"You aren't wrong. The sunsets are beautiful, that's for sure."

"They are." Cheri sighed. "If- when you're out of this medical wing… would you, I don't know, like to hop on a patrol convoy with me? Watch that sunset and compare notes?"

"I'd like that Miss Balabanov." Shepard let loose one of his genuine smiles.

"Please, It's Cheri. Miss Balabanov is much too formal for me." Cheri took a last look at her data pad before returning her gaze to John. "I'll hold you to that then, Commander. But for now, my shift has ended. I'd better be off before I get in the way of the night crew."

"Until next time, Cheri."

Shepard had just closed his eyes to relax when a familiar voice brushed those thoughts aside.

"Hell, Shepard." Zaeed walked through the doorframe carved from solid Martian rock. "Only conscious for like a day and a half and you're already hitting on the finest pair of legs to walk past your hospital bed. Heh, can't blame you though, were I a few years younger I'd have a shot at her too."

"As much as I do enjoy your company Zaeed, I have to ask; what are you doing here?"

"Well, for starters, to say thank you, for savin' our hides out there you suicidal sack of meat…" Zaeed sat down beside Shepard's bed, a hand reaching into his coat and pulling out a bottle of… something. "And second, to bring this. It's not the well aged bottle of Port I promised but I figured I'd weasel you up in quality first."

"Hah! Ahhh, god don't make me laugh." Shepard squeezed his eyes closed first before looking over at the rough looking man beside him. "And what exactly is the mystery liquid in the bottle?"

"Hell if I know how they make it, but they call it 'Tunnel brew' or something."

"Good stuff?"

"Good stuff. Sure to get you up on your feet and running after Cherry-"

"Cheri." Shepard corrected him.

"Right – running after _Cheri_ in not time."

"Yeah, I was meaning to ask… you're ok with this, right?"

"You mean 'this soon' after Ash?" Zaeed looked a little sombre but shook the mood off like a drop of water. "Look Shepard, you can't stay stuck on the one thing forever. It hurts, and it's hard, I know… but she's gone. No point to stay stuck in the past."

"I guess you're right, Zaeed." Shepard sighed, looking to where Cheri had left. "I guess you're right."

.

.

.

\- Uncharted Quadrant, Safe distance from Sol, Deep space comms vessel HSCV _Darkness_ , 2 weeks later -

.

.

.

Ever since the Citadel and remnants of the System Alliance fleet had left the system the post hastily set up outside of Sol was one of the, if not THE, most boring places to be for a military crew. Their ship, which was nothing more than a glorified FTL capable moving Comms dish, could send and receive near instantaneous radio messages with only a few seconds of delay.

So when they picked up a radio frequency much, much lower than that used by the Citadel it naturally instantly piqued their interest.

"Specialist?" The captain, a Turian with white face paint, walked on the bridge. "Can you clean the signal up? I can barely understand what it's saying."

"Aye, Sir. Should be no problem with the data package we got from the human fleet." The Asari tapped away at the holo panel for a second or two. "There we are. Playing it through the speakers…"

/ _~ "-live. I repeat. We are alive. I repeat. We are alive." ~_ /

"By the Goddess…"


End file.
